Tipping Point
by resourceful
Summary: A vacation in Maine, a social network website, and Amanda's old group, "Mothers for a Safe Environment," converge on the Stetson-King family like a day of reckoning. As past and present merge, Scarecrow and Mrs. King face down tragedy and struggle to secure a future.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Tipping Point**

**Author: Resourceful**

**Summary**: A vacation in Maine, a social network website, and Amanda's old group, "Mothers for a Safe Environment," converge on the Stetson-King family like a day of reckoning.

**Timeframe: **Post Season Four: August through October, 2008

**Episode References:** "Vigilante Mothers" (written by Rudolph Borchert and directed by John Patterson) and "Pharaoh's Engineer," (written by Jaison Starkes and directed by Kate Jackson)

Brief nods are also given to the SMK episodes: First Time, If Looks Could Kill, Filming Raul, Lost and Found, Weekend, Savior, Charity Begins at Home, A Little Sex, A Little Scandal, Ship of Spies, We're Off to See the Wizard, Utopia Now, Stemwinder, It's in the Water, Photo Finish, Do You Take This Spy?

**Disclaimer: **Scarecrow and Mrs. King is the property of Warner Brothers and Shoot the Moon. I make no money on my story.

**Authors' Notes: **Many thanks to my east coast beta (wishes to remain anonymous) and my west coast beta (Anne) for generously sharing their time and creative talents as we labored through many drafts. I'm also grateful to another SMK writer for her tips on the creative writing process.

* * *

**Prologue: The Agency: August 15, 2008**

The Agency bullpen buzzed with field agents and support staff rushing to meet deadlines in the vain hope of getting an early start on their weekend plans. Lee Stetson, the chief of field section, did his best to ignore the hubbub as he hunched over his computer. Working at a frantic pace, he needed to tie up loose ends before leaving on a long overdue vacation. Traffic out of Washington D.C. on a summer Friday afternoon would most certainly be one continuous nightmare.

With barely a knock, Francine Desmond waltzed into Lee's private sanctum. "Glad to see you finally chained yourself to the desk. Your last rampage through the bullpen had everyone ducking for cover."

"Spare me the office gripes and groans," Lee said without looking up.

"Got a minute?''

"Not really." Bent over the computer with his back to his colleague, Lee braced for the reaction that was surely coming. Immediately he heard an unladylike snort emanating from his colleague.

"Lee, I like your new fashion statement." Sauntering to his side, she ran a finger over the large decal on the back of his gray sweatshirt. Under the picture of a blue hard-shell crab, Francine read aloud the caption - "Maryland Crab." The words had barely left her lips before she broke into peals of laughter. "Oh, Stetson, this is perfect for our crabby section chief. That's what you get for becoming a Maryland resident."

Curling his lip into a sneer, he defended his attire. "I lost an office bet on a Baltimore Orioles game. The sweatshirt was the booby-prize. I had to wear it today because Amanda claimed all my shirts were in the laundry or already packed for our trip."

"Uh, oh, is there trouble in paradise?"

"You've got that right. My wife didn't want me going into work on the very day we start our week-long vacation." Reluctantly, Lee tore his eyes from the computer screen. "Amanda has the kids loaded in the van, and they'll be here in twenty minutes to pick me up," he groused. "I'm expected to put on a happy face and be waiting at the Georgetown foyer when the family pulls up in their three vehicle caravan."

"Charming," Francine said with clear disdain. "You wouldn't catch me in a parade of minivans loaded with fishing tackle, boggy boards and sand buckets, not to mention three teenagers, two stepsons and their wives, and one hyperactive grandchild."

"No, I'm sure you and Jonathan would choose a more exotic vacation over the three-ring circus waiting for me." Impatient to get back to work, Lee failed to offer a seat to the head of the Agency's Q-bureau. "So, was there something you needed?" he asked with blatant irritation.

Francine ignored his bluster and settled in anyway, relaxing in the leather wing back chair as she neatly tucked her white linen skirt around her knees. "Honestly, Lee, I'm surprised Amanda didn't bound, gag and drug you to insure your presence on the trip. After twenty plus years of marriage, she never reformed her workaholic husband."

"Humph," Lee grunted with a self-deprecating laugh. "Amanda seems to have an excessive work ethic, too. She did double duty with the new Agency recruits all week, just so she could have yesterday and today to lead the troops in packing suitcases and cleaning the house."

"Your little housewife turned spy pays a huge price for domesticity. Amanda never could bring herself to hire a housekeeper. What was your contribution to the preparations?"

"Hey, I mucked out the stable and took my mother-in-law to Dulles Airport. Dotty is visiting her sister for the week."

"You have it easy, Stetson. Your wife is a saint."

"I know I'm a lucky man. Amanda saves me from myself."

Francine abandoned her perch in favor of a restless stroll around the office. "Well, far be it from me to get in the way of Amanda's fantasy vacation to Maine. However, I need to brief you on my meeting with Congressman Aubrey Penneywell."

Lee sighed and abandoned his task. "Okay, shoot. What's the old Texas sidewinder hissing about now?"

"Apparently the congressman has misplaced one of nation's top climate scientists. Aubrey claims the esteemed Malcolm Earl Jessup, born and bred in Texas, is missing."

"Hell, Francine, why is Jessup our problem?"

She gave him a long-suffering look. "You know how it goes – congressmen get cantankerous when prominent constituents disappear on their watch. Besides, Penneywell and Jessup are old friends, and Aubrey claims we owe him a big favor."

Lee nodded with resignation. "Yes, the congressman did cooperate with the Agency when we had to investigate a congressional scandal. Okay, fine, I'll bite. Does Penneywell suspect foul play?"

Francine shrugged. "It's a possibility we need to consider. The gutsy climatologist harassed the fossil fuel industry and top level government officials. He's also been a thorn in the side to climate change skeptics."

"My God, Jessup is fighting wars on several fronts. Doesn't the man know he's out-numbered?"

"Apparently the feisty scientist isn't easily intimidated." Settling firmly into agent mode, Francine tapped her fingers on the executive desk, her gold bangle bracelets jingling against the hard wood surface. "Lee, you've been following the natural gas boom, so you must know that Jessup was enraged when the 2005 Energy Policy Act was passed into law. Thanks to a loophole, horizontal drilling companies can basically thumb their noses at the clean air and clean water acts. They have free reign when it comes to dumping a toxic brew deep into the earth."

"Yeah, the energy policy bill was highly controversial, but it did fast track domestic extraction of oil and natural gas in the United States. People who lease their land for drilling may get rich quick." Lee turned off the computer and shrugged into a light jacket to cover up his crazy sweatshirt. "Listen Francine, you can handle the Jessup investigation and fill me in when I return."

"Thanks a lot," she said with a sardonic smile. "It won't be easy to track down and protect the elusive scientist, even if he is alive and well. Jessup has been spreading his message of gloom and doom like a prophet on a holy mission. He's sounding the alarm that "fracking" may be coming to fertile farmlands, sleepy towns, and suburban neighborhoods from California to New York State. Needless to say he's been revving people up wherever he goes."

Running a tired hand across his forehead, Lee wished he'd hit the road ahead of yet another snafu. "I imagine Jessup's amassed quite an impressive number of environmental justice groups. All very vocal, I assume."

"Yes, very vocal and highly visible. Protesters usually beat their drums loudly instead of stewing in silence."

"No one knows that better than me, Francine. I married one of the founders of the 'Mothers for a Safe Environment,' and somehow I've managed to father the next Susan B. Anthony. With Jennifer's passion for social justice issues, I'll be grateful if she doesn't turn into the next Carrie Nation."

"Hide your hatchet," Francine said with a smirk. "Thankfully, abolition, temperance, and women's suffrage have already been addressed. What's Jenny's latest cause?'

"Humph, would you believe she's the president of 'Teenagers for a Safe Environment'?"

"I should have known." Francine shook her head, a trace of amusement in her eyes. "You must be so proud."

"Terrified is more like it." Lee ran his long fingers through his graying hair, feeling older by the minute. "I'm afraid my daughter is another risk-taker like her parents."

"Well, Stetson, don't let Jenny get mixed up with the likes of Malcolm Earl Jessup. The man is a hero among the global warming scientists, but he's managed to garner countless enemies and a number of death threats. Maybe the next time Jenny wants to march on Washington, you'd better tell her to stay home and bake cookies."

"Very funny," Lee said with a wry grin. "My daughter is a clone of her mother. Just like Amanda, she'd bake cookies for the sole purpose of feeding her group of protestors as they take to the streets."

Francine wagged a beautifully manicured finger in mock warning. "This is what happens when confirmed bachelors marry suburbanites and get seduced by home cooking? Pretty soon there's a baby, or two, or three. And then, the little darlings have the nerve to grow into defiant teenagers."

Lee laughed as he pulled open the office door and prepared to exit. "Hey, I love my children, but I never imagined my dainty little girl growing into a rebel with a cause."

* * *

**Chapter One: Bar Harbor, Maine - August 17, 2008**

A sweet serenity settled over Frenchman Bay and Bar Harbor as the setting sun painted the sky with hues of orange, pink and purple. To even the casual observer, nature's wonders were breathtaking to behold. Picturesque islands rose like humpback whales above the shimmering sea. Towering mountain majesties climbed toward the heavens. A profusion of flowers graced the lush green lawns of the waterfront. And tumbling white caps of the mighty Atlantic Ocean surged toward Maine's rocky coastline.

In a rare private moment, Lee and Amanda relaxed on the plush cushions of the double chaise lounge and gazed in awe at the stunning vista. With a light breeze caressing their bodies, wisps of hair played around Amanda's face. Tenderly, Lee smoothed the soft tendrils behind her ears.

"It's chilly," she said, her slight frame shivering in his arms.

He ran a hand over her tan flesh, noting the goose bumps that dotted her limbs. "My cargo shorts and your sundress leave us exposed to the elements." Reaching for a plaid blanket at the foot of the chaise lounge, he pulled the cover over their long bare legs. "Is this better?"

"Much better," she said, sighing with contentment as she nestled deeper into his embrace. "The company is great and the panoramic view is spectacular."

"We needed the down time. Thanks for dragging me on the family trip to Maine."

She nudged him with a playful poke of her elbow. "It was a tough sell convincing you to come to Bar Harbor, especially with the entire clan onboard for the vacation. After all our years of marriage, my loner still balks at extended family gatherings." Amanda laughed and tickled his ribs.

He squirmed at her touch and quickly stilled her roving hands. "Well, I'm sold now." Pointing at the shimmering bay, he diverted her gaze toward a massive sailboat. "Look, the 'Margaret Todd' is out this evening. "She's a beaut."

Red sails in the sunset skimmed across the horizon, merging with the steel blue water and the fading skyline. In the gloaming, the legendary four-mast schooner cruised passed the islands on Frenchman's Bay. "The windjammer must be a 140 feet long," Lee said as he took another sip of wine and offered the same to his wife.

"Maybe we should think about taking an evening cruise." Reaching around her husband, Amanda grabbed the laptop computer, left in wait on the table. It was hastily abandoned by the younger set in favor of a quick trip to the nearest dairy bar for ice cream cones and hot fudge sundaes. "I don't think Jamie and Lisa will mind if I borrow their laptop for a minute." Typing in "Bar Harbor Windjammer Cruise" in the search engine, Amanda scanned the specifics. "The Margaret Todd is actually 151 feet long. The blog also claims the schooner is the favorite romantic cruise of the islands."

Lee winked at his wife. "Then let's make a reservation – just the two of us."

"I don't think it would be very romantic," Amanda corrected him with her best sassy grin. "I suspect you'd better count on eight more family members joining us, along with several dozen tourists, a folk band and, of course, the crew. According to the blog, they even allow dogs onboard for their excursions."

Lee's eager smile drooped at the news. "Forget the cruise; we can always ship the family out to sea without us. We'll create our own romance right here." Moving in closer, he planted feather-like kisses along the long column of her neck. Then tempted by the tantalizingly view of bare skin, he pushed aside the spaghetti strap of her sundress and pressed his lips to her shoulder.

"Mmm," Amanda moaned as she squirmed under her husband's ministrations. Despite a teasing smile for Lee, her eyes remained focused on the laptop, and her fingers danced over the keys at top speed.

Resorting to more distracting maneuvers, Lee employed his magic fingers, hoping for an indelicate proposal from his wife. As he gently massaged the tight muscles in her shoulders, she began to relax under his touch. "How does that feel?"

"Delightful," she murmured. Pausing only to place a kiss on his hand, she quickly resumed her surfing of the internet.

"A-man-da, put the damn computer away. We're not at work. Besides, you're apparently snooping on Jamie and Lisa's websites."

"Sweetheart, I'm not monitoring our grown son and his wife, but parents do have a 'need to know' when it comes to the internet and teenagers. Jenny and the twins were using the laptop before everyone left for town." Amanda held up her index finger, signaling for him to be patient. Persisting in her search, her smile suddenly faded. "Oh my gosh. Did you know our daughter has her own social network page?"

"What?" Lee sat up abruptly, pulling eyeglasses from his shirt pocket and peering over his wife's shoulder. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Look, she forgot to sign out. Her page popped right up in full view. Oh, Lord, she's put up her junior prom picture and a personal profile under the name of Jenny Stetson – everything needed to lead potential stalkers right to our front door." Amanda dug her nails into her husband's thigh as she read aloud the particulars.

Birthdate: October 31

Birthplace: Arlington, Virginia.

Hometown: Point of Rocks, Maryland.

Parents: Lee and Amanda

Brothers: Phillip, Jamie, Matthew, Robert.

Interests: dance, music, art, soccer, high school yearbook and "Teenagers for a Safe Environment."

Lee snorted with exasperation. Immediately all thoughts of a romantic encounter were subjugated to least importance. "Hell, Jenny knows our rules. No social networking on the internet until she turns eighteen."

"Obviously she jumped the gun by a few months."

"Great, that's just great. Jenny may as well put up billboards from Maine to Moscow. She's practically sent an engraved invitation to our old foes. The damn profile needs to come down, right now."

"We'll talk to her, sweetheart, and to Jamie and Lisa, too. I doubt they knew that Jenny signed herself up for social media." With increasing anxiety, Amanda continued to inspect her daughter's web page. "Oh no, she's put up information about our trip. Last week she posted, "Leaving for Maine with family on August 15."

Lee swore under his breath. "At least she didn't give an exact location."

"Not then, sweetheart, but today she got more specific."

"Show me." Lee's jaw locked, the muscle pulsating with escalating fury. What was his daughter thinking? She was about to start her senior year, and she was still testing the limits. "Damn it, Jennifer is well-versed on the need for confidentiality in the Stetson household."

"Apparently our young lady needs a refresher course on keeping secrets." Reading aloud, Amanda shared another post. "Stuck in Bar Harbor, Maine – Staying at the Sea View Resort with my WHOLE family – BORING!"

"Well, thanks a lot," Lee said, his voice thick with sarcasm. "She not only revealed our vacation destination, but she griped about it, too."

Amanda shared his disappointment as she stroked her fingers along the blonde hairs of his forearm. "Don't be hurt, sweetheart. Certainly you realize all teenage girls act 'put-upon' by their families."

"Yeah, I know her game only too well." Lee shook his head at the incongruity. "However, our Jenny doesn't normally treat us like piranhas. What else did Miss Independent say? I hope she hasn't posted pictures of our trip."

Perusing the page, Amanda eyes widened as older posts and pictures were revealed. "Uh, oh," she gasped. "Jennifer put up a photo of the 'Mothers for a Safe Environment's' annual mother-daughter dinner."

"My God, what was she thinking?" As Amanda enlarged the picture, Lee groaned. "Well, the resemblance is unmistakable. There are my look-alike wife and daughter beaming for the camera, and now the picture is on the internet. Didn't I warn you that your "tree-hugger" events were too high profile for an intelligence operative?"

"Lee, I've tamed down my social activism in recent years, but when I discovered a chapter of 'Mothers for a Safe Environment' in our Maryland community, I thought it was a good way to show support for Jenny's interest in the environmental rights movement. She feels affirmed knowing her mom is interested in protecting the planet, too."

"Well, I'm concerned about keeping my wife and daughter safe from more immediate danger." Lee's fingers curled into a fist as his memory conjured up an old case. "I'm sure you remember the college student who put green dye into the Washington D.C. water purification system to prove it was vulnerable to attack. Damn it, I don't want Jennifer turning into another Carmine Davis."

"Good, Lord, Lee, Jenny doesn't go to extremes in order to make a point."

"Let's hope not." Continuing to scrutinize the page, Lee spied pictures from their Arlington days. "Great, Jenny also put up old photos of you and the environmental radical, Mrs. Courtney. See, there you are strutting through the streets with your eye-catching placards, 'No More Poison' and 'Save Our Air and Water.'

Amanda cringed as she pointed out another entry. "Oh, you'll love this one, sweetheart. Someone even snapped a picture of you at the 1985 'Mothers for a Safe Environment' meeting. It must have been taken when you showed up at the community center to hear Leonard Fletcher's speech."

"Dammit, I was there to investigate the guy, not to protest with a brunch of 'do-gooders.' How the hell did Jennifer get a hold of ancient photographs?"

Amanda leaned in closer, scrutinizing the details of the entire webpage. "Oh, no, you'll never guess who is included in Jenny's list of friends."

"You don't mean . . . ."

"Oh, yes I do! Mrs. Courtney. Apparently they can tag and share each other's pictures. "

"Hell, I don't want an extremist getting chummy with our daughter. That woman has a mob mentality."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Lee, you're exaggerating. Edwina Courtney must be seventy years old now." Amanda flattened her hands against his chest in a futile effort to sooth the savage beast. "Mrs. Courtney's methods were a bit overzealous, but she definitely got results. However, I do agree that she should not be trading pictures and messages with Jenny on a social network web page."

Lee's jaw clenched with frustration as more unsettling revelations hit the fan. "It gets worse. Here's a photo of you with Jean Kearsley at your infamous march on the Bethesda Ordnance Laboratory in 1985. There you are with your arm around the gullible accomplice of Robert Castille, the notorious weapons broker and murderer."

Amanda shot her husband an incredulous look. "Jean Kearsley didn't knowingly help the man, and, besides, the picture doesn't really look like me. My hair was much shorter in those days."

"Humph," Lee said with a contemptuous grunt. "Thank God you picked that year to be scalped by a scissor-happy hairdresser. The short hair worked better than any disguise the Agency could have cooked up."

"Well, thank you very much."

Lee felt a twinge of regret for his comment, but decided to ignore her ruffled feathers. Peering over his reading glasses, he scowled at his wife. "I don't know why you make light of the vigilante mothers' fiasco? Your group brought every media outlet in the D.C. area to your march on a secure government facility. And your demonstration spelled disaster. Amanda King, you nearly died that day."

"You mean Amanda Stetson," she corrected in clipped words that hit their mark. "Listen, Buster, after two decades the threats to the environment have grown worse, while government officials and much of the public remain mired in denial."

Lee finally relented. "Okay, okay, I hear you. Your cause was worthy of action. However, times have changed." Placing an arm around her shoulders, he tried to bridge their divide. "We both know people are more polarized over environmental issues today. Differences of opinion have bred intense animosity. You and Jenny are inviting trouble every time you mount one of your soapboxes."

Amanda stiffened at his remarks. Taking a deep breath, she was undoubtedly preparing to serve up her best concerned citizen's speech. "Lee, there is an obvious threat to the whole planet, and I still believe mothers and fathers should stand up for the future of their children. Maybe as a bachelor in 1985, you were comfortable watching from the sidelines, but now your neutral stance is hindering solutions." She crossed her arms in protest, her brown eyes pinning her husband with clear accusation.

Holding in his temper, Lee held up his hands in silent defense. God, his wife could certainly raise his hackles when she got on her self-righteous high horse. "Amanda, I do sympathize with your concerns. However, there are fierce arguments on both sides of environmental issues that have to be addressed, and some people can use ugly means to be persuasive. As intelligence agents, we don't usually have the luxury of choosing up sides. We have to confront any trouble that erupts in either camp."

"I know that, Lee."

Still frustrated, he swiped long fingers through his hair, choosing his next words with great restraint. "Need I remind you that there are climate change deniers who adamantly oppose environmental alarmists? Some extremists would drool at the chance to make life extremely unpleasant for the daughter of Lee and Amanda Stetson. Our Jenny is much too vocal with her protest marches and letters to the school newspaper."

Amanda nodded, acknowledging with a small smile that she understood his concerns. "Yes, sweetheart, our daughter is passionate about protecting the environment. For her own sake, Jenny needs to tone down the rhetoric and keep a lower profile."

"I think the choice belongs to me," said a prickly voice from inside the condo.

Lee and Amanda looked up in tandem as Jennifer Grace Stetson marched through the deck door. With her fists clenched and brow furrowed, she appeared ready to do battle with her interfering parents. "You've been spying on me," she accused with youthful outrage.

Amanda fielded the first onslaught. "We weren't exactly spying, Jennifer."

"I bet." Assailed by the breeze, Jenny's delicate hands brushed back the long brunette hair that whipped around her face. Her pointed chin trembled as she waited for an explanation.

Lee hesitated while he studied his sweet but spirited daughter. Dressed in green Crocs, rumpled khaki shorts, and a "Save the Polar Bears" t-shirt, she was a walking advertisement for social justice. The peace symbol hung from a chain on her neck, and tiny green hearts dangled from her earlobes. How on earth did his adoring daddy's girl turn into a "bleeding heart liberal"? Lee shook his head at the incongruity. However, he only needed a quick glance at his wife to affirm the truth was self-evident. Jennifer Stetson was every bit her mother's child, not just in looks, but in passionate concern for all creatures great and small.

"Come here, sweetheart," Lee said, treading lightly in her presence. "We didn't expect you back so soon."

Jennifer's only response was grim silence. Lining up behind her, with equally morose faces, were her younger brothers, Matthew and Robert. When push came to shove in the Stetson family, the thirteen-year-old twins usually sided with their sister.

"What's going on?" Phillip asked as he appeared on the deck with his wife, Heather, and their three-year- old daughter, Mandy.

Moving to the side, the group made room for Jamie and his wife, Lisa. By the looks on their faces, the jury had considered the evidence and found Lee and Amanda guilty of invasion of privacy. Caught red handed with the computer in their laps, there was no denying the truth.

With her dark eyes blazing, Jenny crossed her arms around her petit frame. "Mom and Dad don't trust me, so they've been poking into my personal business."

"Busted, huh?" Phillip offered a sly grin. "Gosh, this brings back memories."

As all the Stetson-King siblings exchanged sympathetic gazes with their sister, little Mandy struggled out of her father's arms and took up sides with the enemy. "Hi, Nanny and Poppy", the blue-eyed child greeted her grandparents. "I have chocolate ice cream." Climbing onto the chaise lounge, she thrust the dripping cone toward them. "Want some?"

"Not now, baby," Lee responded softly. Grabbing a handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped the melting ice cream from her hands and chin.

Amanda smoothed down Mandy's blonde curls and then rose to speak for the defense as she conjured up a bright smile under the questioning gazes. "Honestly, this is all very innocent. Dad and I borrowed the computer to look up information on the Windjammer Cruises – you know the boat with the brilliant red sails? I thought the whole family may like to go sailing. Did you know tourists can join the action and help to hoist the sails on morning cruises?"

"Mom," Jamie interrupted in his most patient tone. "You're welcome to use our laptop, but why is Jenny so upset?"

"Well, you see, it was just an accident," Amanda said, tap dancing around the real issue. After I looked up Windjammer Cruises, I did a little surfing on the net, and Jenny's social network page popped up." Pausing, she scrutinized her daughter's angry demeanor. "Sweetie, you really should sign out when you leave a site."

A bright red crimson spread from Jenny's neck and fanned out over her cheeks. "Mom, I can't believe you and Daddy snooped."

"Guilty as charged," Lee said as he set Mandy on her feet and moved to stand by his wife's side. "Jenny, you should have asked us before you joined an internet social network. You know how vulnerable the whole family is when too much information is shared publicly."

Jamie shot Lisa a pointed look, and she shook her head. "Sorry," he said. "We honestly didn't know about Jenny's participation on the site."

Amanda nodded in understanding. "We assumed you were in the dark, too." With a long pause, she studied each somber face, waiting until she commanded their full attention. "Your dad and I know it seems unfair, but our jobs necessitate parental vigilance. Our awareness could save your lives."

Jenny rolled her eyes. "Everything is a life and death issue for you two."

"They're spies, Jen," Phillip said, calmly. "Our parents are just trying to protect all of us."

"Exactly." Lee slowly walked toward his daughter and placed a finger under her chin, forcing Jenny to meet his gaze. "You'll need to take your page down, princess," he said, invoking the childhood moniker.

Jenny's mouth flew open in protest. "Daddy, I don't want to take the site down. All my friends are signed up. And besides, there are lots of Jennifer Stetsons listed. Maybe you and Mom could modify the page, so I don't give away any family secrets." For her closing argument, she locked eyes with her father and offered a heart stopping smile.

Despite his fierce intent, Lee wavered, knowing full well his daughter had honed her female wiles to perfection and could work those innate charms to her own advantage. "I don't know, Jennifer."

"Dad, all I really want to do is communicate with the kids from school. You and Mom could even approve my friends and my posts."

"We'll see." Lee blew out a harsh breath as warring emotions tested his resolve. Leave it to Jennifer to make him second guess himself. However, in this case, harsh reality precluded parental leniency. "Jenny, you revealed personal information about our family and, even worse, you announced the exact location where we're staying this week."

"No, I didn't," she said with clear consternation. "Yes, I put up a few pictures and friended some people I've known for years, but, no, I didn't post details of our family. Nor did I reveal anything about our vacation destination."

Amanda came forward with the laptop in her hands. "See, Jen, you posted our family names, and gave the name of the town and condo where we're staying."

Jenny shook her head in fierce denial. "Honest, Mom, I didn't post any specifics about our family or our trip."

"Then who did?" With his hands braced across his chest, Lee perused the glum faces of his children. From the corner of his eye, he saw the twins nudge each other. "Okay, guys, what do you know about the postings?"

"Search me," Matthew said with a shrug, his best Stetson poker face practically set in stone.

Robert, the normally compliant twin, merely stared at his sneakers. "How would we know about social networking? We're not old enough to join."

"Uh huh," Lee said, realizing the twins were stonewalling. Leave it to Robby to answer a question with a question. The boys were undoubtedly hiding something. When the two seventh graders dug in their heels, even a lie detector test and sensory deprivation would fail to break them. "Jennifer," he continued, "did your younger brothers witness your social network activity?"

Jenny squirmed, obviously not wanting to betray the twins. "Well, I guess they sort of peered over my shoulder when I was posting."

"I see." Lee pointed a finger at his sons. "Listen, guys, if you two are messing around on the internet without permission, I expect you to stop right now. Sooner or later, the social networking craze is going to spell disaster for someone, and I don't want it to involve our family. Got it?"

"Yeah, sure," Matt replied, his square jaw jutting out with false bravado. "We got it."

Robby's soft brown eyes bore into his father's gaze. "Don't worry, Dad. We're not going to invite trouble."

"Don't count on it," Jamie added with a wry laugh. "In this family, trouble doesn't need a special invitation."

* * *

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Acadia National Park - August 18**

The family van barely pulled to a stop in front of Thunder Hole at Acadia National Park when the Stetson boys flew from the vehicle like they'd been shot from a canon. "Hold it, guys," Lee cautioned, but he was too late to snag his sons before they raced toward the jagged rocks overlooking the ocean. "Damn."

"Lee, I'll catch up with them," Amanda said, summoning the needed patience to keep her husband on an even keel. "Why don't you wait here and flag down Phillip and Jamie when they show up with the rest of our troops."

"Fine, but try to grab our hooligans before they fall in the water." Adjusting his sunglasses, Lee gave a half wave and headed back to the road to watch for the others.

Hurrying down the walkway after her youngest sons, Amanda failed to spot the imminent collision with a distracted senior citizen. "Oh, excuse me," she said as she bounced off the lean frame of the innocent passerby. "I'm so sorry." Bending down, she retrieved his cane that had fallen to the ground.

"No harm done," he said, handing over her purse that had slipped from her shoulder to the flowering shrubs by the walkway. "You'd think someone like me, who's taken the tour dozens of times, would learn to pay attention and keep his wits about him."

"And so should I." Smiling at the stranger, Amanda couldn't help but notice his polite demeanor, piercing blue eyes, and impish grin. No doubt, he knew how to charm the ladies, even if his clothes were outdated by today's standards. Shrugging off the odd encounter, she raised her hand to wave good-bye. "Well, if you'll excuse me . . . ."

"Ah, before you go," he said, "allow me to inform you of a wonderful opportunity."

"Oh?" Amanda halted her forward progress while still keeping an eye out for the boys.

The gentleman reached into the coat pocket of his vintage 1970s leisure suit and produced a pamphlet and calling card. "I've lived here for years and have gotten to be something of a local historian. Maybe you and your family would be interested in my art collection and presentation on the 1947 Mount Desert Island fire."

"Yes, that does sound interesting." Amanda hastily accepted the information and stuck it in her purse. Then inching away, she prepared to hurry down the path. "I'll be sure to read your pamphlet later, but I really must catch up with my family, Mr. . . ."

"Oliver Wendell Baxter," he supplied, proffering a handshake. "It's nice to meet you, Mrs. . . ."

"Amanda Stetson," she said, shaking his hand. "I'm sorry to run off, but I need to find my sons."

"Of course." Politely tipping his faded fishing hat, he revealed a tangle of springy curls, pure white with age. "By all means, find your children. Thunder Hole can be a dangerous place when the waves kick up. On a few occasions, people have been swept out to sea."

"Oh my gosh." Without another glance, she hurried toward the rocky alcove that overlooked the ocean.

"Boys, boys, come back." Amanda waved her arms and beckoned to her twins as they leaned over the railing above Thunder Hole. "You're too close to the water."

They waved back at her, but scarcely surrendered their perch.

Amanda sighed with exasperation. Matthew and Robert Stetson exhibited the same risky behavior she remembered from Phillip and Jamie''s teen years. However, by all appearances, the twins took first place in the "boys will be boys" category.

As a huge wave tumbled onto the rocks, tourists jumped back in vain. Everyone within ten feet was sprayed with icy water. Matty and Robby stomped partway up the ramp, slapping the water from their sneakers as they vigorously shook the moisture from their hair.

"It serves them right." Phillip suddenly appeared, carrying his sleeping daughter against his shoulder. "Man, it's a wonder my little brothers didn't fall in the drink."

"Well, they're trying, I'll give you that." Amanda reached around her eldest son and touched the tousled curls of her granddaughter. Mandy, officially known as Amanda Lee King, was a treasured gift after three decades of "snakes and snails and puppy dog tails."

Even Jenny, raised in the midst of four brothers, had become something of a tomboy in order to compete in her siblings' world of sports and creeping critters. However, when Mandy was born, Jennifer had been ecstatic to welcome a rare female relative into the family. The little girl was the perfect substitute for a longed-for sister.

As if aware of her mother's thoughts, Jennifer quietly appeared by her side. "Mom, I hope Phillip and Jamie weren't that foolish at thirteen."

"Close, but not that close," Lee said with a grin as he joined the group. Placing his long arms around the shoulders of his wife and daughter, he surveyed the action of his sons. "Matt and Rob should be okay. The ocean is fairly calm today, so we won't hear the clap of thunder when the waves rush into the cavern, forcing out the air and water."

Amanda shot her husband a wary look. "The boys don't know what to expect. They have no sense of danger."

"Yeah, that's why they're wearing the 'No Fear' t-shirts Lee bought for them." Jamie elbowed his stepfather as he joined them by the railing. Then positioning his camera, he began snapping pictures.

While the boys continued their flirt with fickle Mother Nature, Lee finally cut loose with a shrill whistle - his usual mode for capturing their attention. However, this time his attempt fell on deaf ears. "When did Matt and Rob become 'Dumb and Dumber'?"

"Sweetheart, don't ever let the boys hear you say that."

"Humph, then they'd better shape up." When the twins playfully shoved each other toward the gaping hole, their father jogged off to collar them. Whatever he said apparently reined them in, because they nodded in agreement and fell into lock step beside him. With an arm across each boy's shoulders, Lee steered them back to the family.

Coming to stand by their mother, the twins looked repentant. "Sorry," Robert said through chattering teeth as he wrapped thin arms tightly against his lean body.

Amanda resisted the urge to brush the dark strands of hair off his forehead. Of all her handsome sons, Robby was the one who looked most like his mother and sister. He had the same dark brown hair and eyes and the same slender bone structure.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, too," Matthew grumbled, running long fingers through his sandy blonde hair. Taller with broader shoulders than his twin, he was clearly cloned from the Stetson line. He had his dad's temperament, too. Sometimes their sameness could punch Lee's buttons, especially when the father recognized his own faults mirrored in his child. "I don't want him repeating my mistakes," Lee often said when he lost all patience with his impulsive boy.

Amanda smiled at her youngest sons, marveling that her babies were growing up in a blink of an eye. They were life's ultimate surprise. Totally unexpected, she'd found herself pregnant at the age of forty-two and then, unbelievably, the mother of twin boys at forty-three. Once everyone had gotten over the shock, Matty and Robby had quickly become the delight of the whole family.

"His and hers," that's what Dotty had called them when the twins were born. Ironically, right from birth, Lee's broad shoulders proved useful in comforting Robert's sensitive nature, while Amanda's serene presence was the perfect balm for soothing Matthew's hair-trigger temper.

"Hey, look at this," Jamie called to his mother and stepfather. "Tell me what you think." As Lee and Amanda peered over his shoulder, he scanned through the latest pictures on his camera. "There's a dude in my shots who seems to be hovering near Jenny and the twins at different points on our tour."

"Yeah, you're right," Lee said. "I didn't want to alarm anyone yet, but I noticed him earlier at Otters' Cove and then again when the kids played Frisbee at Sand Beach."

Looking closer, Amanda sighed with palpable relief. "Oh, for heaven's sake, you're talking about Oliver Wendell Baxter. He's a charming gentleman with impeccable manners. Mr. Baxter is a resident of the island and a history buff of sorts."

"How would you know?" Lee locked his arms over his chest and gave his wife an incredulous look.

She stepped forward and slid her fingers along his shoulders, trying to release the tension that radiated from his body. "I've talked to Mr. Baxter, sweetheart. In fact, I nearly knocked him off his feet."

"What?"

"It was an accident. We apologized to each other and exchanged some pleasantries."

"Amanda, accidents can be arranged."

"Good grief, Lee," she said with a sigh. "Dozens of people have been with us all day, so you can't single out Oliver Baxter. After all, everyone is touring the same sights highlighted in the Visitor Center's travel guide."

"True, it's probably nothing, but I've had an uneasy feeling about the guy hanging around our children. He was particularly nosing around Jennifer when she sat on the rocks to sketch Otter's Cove."

"Oh, Daddy, we were just talking about the scenery . . . and, you know, the rising of the oceans. He's very concerned about global warming, too."

"Ah," Lee said, the slight tic in his jaw betraying his annoyance. "I hope he's not some kind of climate change fanatic or worse. Keep your distance from the man, Jennifer."

"Sweetheart, I think you're overreacting." Amanda crossed her arms and glared at Lee with exasperation. There was nothing like an extended family vacation to bring out her husband's obsessive vigilance. "Just what is it about Mr. Baxter that makes you suspicious?"

"I honestly don't know," Lee said, already herding his clan toward the parking lot. "I've never seen the man before; however, I intend to keep an eye on him. Safe is better than sorry."

* * *

**Sea View Resort Condo**

Amanda stepped from the shower and wrapped her lithe body in a terry cloth robe. Rubbing the steam from the mirror, she studied her tousled hair and creamy complexion, noting with satisfaction that her skin was still smooth and firm despite her fifty-six years.

Through the paper thin walls of their rented condo, she could hear the television blare the music from the classic movie, "West Side Story." As Maria's soprano voice sang, "Tonight, tonight, I'll see my love tonight," the words filled Amanda's mind with thoughts of love and desire.

"Did you come clean?" Lee's deep voice startled her from her reverie as he poked his head around the door of the master bath. There was no mistaking the smoldering message his eyes conveyed.

"Are you getting hungry?" she asked, knowing he knew exactly what she meant.

Lee came all the way into the bathroom and closed the door. "How's tonight," he whispered as he slid the top of her robe down one shoulder and burned a kiss into her collarbone. "It's been way too long since we had any privacy on this trip, if you get my drift."

"You're as transparent as cellophane," she said with a wicked laugh. Amanda turned in her husband's arms, pressing her body against his solid frame. "I'll pencil you in for later. If the kids follow through on their plans, we may have a few hours to ourselves."

"You mean everyone is going out, including the twins and Little Miss Muffet?"

"Yes, Jamie and Phillip mentioned taking the girls and the children into town to shop this evening."

"Hallelujah," Lee said, throwing his head back in triumph. "There is a God." Then moving closer, he brushed his lips over hers. Instantly, the fire ignited and the kiss became all consuming. As he upped the ante, his need became quite apparent. Wordlessly, he reached between them, fumbling blindly to untie the sash of her robe. "Amanda . . ."

"Lee," she whimpered, between quick breaths. "We'd better wait." The words barely cleared her lips when the bathroom door flew open, slamming against the wall with a bang.

Taking a defensive posture, Lee shielded her as if a bomb had exploded in the room. "Not again," he groaned when recognition dawned.

There stood three-year-old Mandy with her Strawberry Shortcake doll under one arm and the companion dog, Pupcake, under the other. "Nanny and Poppy, what are you doing?"

"Well . . . hello there, pumpkin," Amanda said, in a voice as rough as sand paper. Turning on her brightest smile, she held her robe together with a death grip. A quick glance at Lee confirmed that he was still laboring to breathe under duress.

"Hi, sweetie," he managed to sputter. Quickly distracting the child, he gave Amanda enough time to secure the sash on her robe. "Ah, do you need something, Mandy?"

"I need you," she said with a petulant cry. Dropping her companions, she ran to his arms. "My tummy hurts. I wanna watch TV in your bed."

Lee held the tyke against his side while he shot Amanda a helpless look. "Here it comes - a full evening of Blues Clues, The Wiggles, and Dora the Explorer."

"Oh, there you are." Phillip stood in the doorway, beckoning to his daughter. "Sorry about the escapee. She's not feeling well and wants her grandparents."

Heather nudged her way into the bathroom and stood next to Phillip. "Did you ask them?"

"Ask them what?" The muscles in Lee's jaw twitched with annoyance.

Phillip turned his gaze toward his mother, knowing full well who the real pushover would be. "Ah, we need a favor. Mandy has an upset tummy, so we'd better not take her with us tonight. Would you mind babysitting?"

Silently kissing the romantic interlude goodbye, Amanda turned on a smile with practiced cheerfulness. "We'll be happy to take care of our little Mandy."

"Sure," Lee added with a hint of sarcasm. "We have nothing better to do." Taking command, he pointed toward the door. "Now if everyone is finished in here, maybe we can give your mother a moment to get dressed."

"Oh, right," Phillip said, suddenly realizing they'd overstepped their boundaries.

As everyone filed from the cramped bathroom, Amanda gave Lee's polo shirt a tug. "I promise we'll find some private time," she whispered against his ear.

He shot her a purposeful look. "You'd better believe it."

* * *

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 – Sea View Resort Condo - August 19 **

A flash of lightning pierced the darkness, heralding in a day of torrential rain. Interspersed with loud claps of thunder, the storm routed Lee from bed, long before he was ready to face the day. God, he'd hardly slept a wink, what with the wind howling overhead and a wiggly monkey performing all-night acrobatic acts in between her long-suffering grandparents. Whatever possessed Amanda to allow Mandy into their bed was beyond comprehension.

Padding into the living room, he stepped over an assortment of sleeping bodies, haphazardly sprawled in front of the television. Still on, in mute mode, he flipped off the set and moved into the kitchen to make coffee.

With the storm growing in intensity, all three generations dragged themselves from their beds. As the females took first dibs on the bathrooms, the guys staggered into the breakfast nook. Still clad in their "Property of UVA" or "Washington Redskins" t-shirts and jogging shorts, the five grouchy males pulled up chairs and mumbled a guttural "hey".

It wasn't long before the love of Lee's life waltzed into view, a silk robe tied tightly around her slim frame and a perky smile upon her lips. "Good morning, family," she chirped as she gave her husband a light kiss on the cheek and ran her fingers through his disheveled hair. "Did you sleep well, sweetheart?"

"Are you kidding?" With an incredulous look, he unloaded his chief complaint, "I think I'm bruised from head to toe. Our granddaughter pummeled me all night."

At that moment, the reason for his misery skipped merrily into the kitchen and greeted her dad with a big hug. Then with smiles for everyone, she made a beeline for Lee's side. Without an invitation, Mandy climbed onto his lap and wrapped her little arms around his neck. "Hi, Poppy."

"Morning, baby," he said, his voice mellowing. Taking a long sip of his coffee, Lee watched his wife set the tone for the day. Leave it to his opposite to keep her positive attitude, no matter what the circumstances. Catching her eye, he blew her a kiss, thanking the fates for the woman who'd graced his life for a quarter of a century.

Unhooking the large fry pan and a skillet from their perch over the island, Amanda prepared to make breakfast. "How do eggs, sausage and pancakes sound?" Not waiting for an answer among the grumps, she got things started and then enlisted help when the rest of the regimen arrived. "Okay, I need volunteers to set the table, crack the eggs, and pour the juice. The rest of you will be on the clean-up crew."

After the troops took up their stations, Jenny sat down next to her father and reached over to tickle Mandy's bare belly. As the toddler giggled, the teen captured her dad's gaze. "I would like you to approve my network page," she said in a hopeful tone.

"You mean now?" Lee forced his bleary eyes to focus on his eager daughter. At seventeen, she was turning into a morning person just like Amanda. With her hair wet from the shower, Jennifer was already dressed in cut-off jeans and a pink Acadia National Park sweatshirt.

Nudging her father's arm, Jenny persisted in her quest. "Dad, are you going to help me or not?"

"Okay, let's see it." Snagging the bowl of Fruit Loops that Heather had set out for Mandy, he scooted the child onto an island stool. There she had a ringside seat of the breakfast preparations.

Jennifer set the laptop in front of him and leaned into her father's side. "Mom and I worked out a plan last night, but she wants you onboard, too."

"Um hmm." Scanning the page, he noted the pictures had been taken down, hopefully before any damage had been done to their privacy. Also gone from her profile were her birthdate, the names of family members and their place of residence. The references to vacation had been deleted, too. "So far, so good."

"Mom suggested a Halloween photograph for my profile picture. Remember, I was dressed as a pirate last year. My friends will recognize me, but no one else will make the association."

Lee grinned, momentarily transported back-in-time to 1983 when he had dressed as a pirate to confront Amanda at a fast food restaurant. Somehow, she had salvaged the costume and altered it for their children. Now the kids loved it. "Sure, Jen, you can post your pirate picture."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a peck on the cheek.

He winked at his daughter and continued to scan the page. "I want Mrs. Courtney gone from your friends."

"Why?" Jenny's face was full of questions.

"Need to know," he said, redirecting her gaze toward the picture of another friend. "Who is the guy with the long hair and the granny glasses?"

"Nate, you know, Nathaniel Kearsley. He lived in our old Arlington neighborhood. I often played with him when we went back to visit friends on Maplewood Drive. Nate also joined me at Camp Harmony over several summers."

Lee frowned. Immediately Jean Kearsley and "Mothers for a Safe Environment" came to mind. Beckoning to Amanda, he motioned for her to join them. "Honey, is this Jean's kid?"

Amanda nodded in agreement. "Good catch, sweetheart. The family went through a divorce, so Jean and the kids moved out west when Nate was in middle school. He must be in college now, and his older sisters are married."

"Well, Nate's too old for Jennifer. Sorry, kiddo, you'll have to unfriend him."

Jenny crossed her arms in protest. "Dad, he's only two years older than me. And we have a lot in common. He's really knowledgeable and vocal about climate change, too."

Lee balked. "Well, there's a ringing endorsement," he said sarcastically. "The last thing I want is for you to get sucked into a protest march with college students. Jen, take him down."

"Dad-dy, no."

Amanda intervened to end the stalemate. "Jennifer, your dad is right. Nate's not in your circle of friends anymore."

"Fine," she said, slamming the computer lid closed. Moving away from her parents, she went to sit at the opposite end of the table.

"Breakfast is served," Heather called as she carried over serving platters.

The tension between Lee and Jenny hung over the group like autumn's first frost. For most of the meal, conversation was limited to the weather and the Chevy Chase movie, "National Lampoon Vacation" that occupied last night insomniacs. For his part, Lee sipped coffee, nibbled a day old roll, and buried his nose in yesterday's newspaper.

Sitting with Mandy in her lap, Amanda steered the conversation toward rainy day activities. "With torrential rain predicted, maybe today is a good opportunity to take in a movie. Does anyone know what's showing?"

Jenny brightened immediately. "I noticed 'An Inconvenient Truth' is playing. I never got to see the film when it was released in 2006. Now it's showing in Bar Harbor."

Phillip wrinkled his nose at the suggestion. "I've never heard of it. Who are the stars?"

Jamie laughed at his brother. "Al Gore - you know the former Vice President of the United States."

"Oh, him," Phillip groaned. "He swore off politics when he narrowly lost the presidency to George W. Bush. I didn't realize the dude went into acting."

Jamie exchanged a disbelieving glance with Lisa. "Al Gore is not an actor. The guy made a documentary film on global warming and climate change. The movie even won two Oscars, and he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for his work on climate change."

Phillip's indifference culminated in a big yawn. "Yeah, I guess I did hear about the awards."

"Please go to the movie," Jenny urged. "You really should see it."

"I suppose so," he said, "but we're on vacation now. Wouldn't you rather see a chick flick or an action movie? An Inconvenient . . . whatever, sounds as dull as a stick to me."

Matt looked up from his stack of pancakes as he finished drowning them with syrup. "Does anyone get killed in the movie?"

"Try many species and lots of humans." Jenny stared at her younger brother with growing impatience. "If the world doesn't wake up, we'll all be hurting, and much of the earth may become uninhabitable in our lifetime. Is that scary enough for your tastes?"

"Nope, not me," Matt said as he poked his twin. "Maybe our future Einstein will go."

Robby, the budding scientist among the bunch, perked up. "Count me in."

Lisa nodded toward Jamie. "We're in, too. People need to be informed and take responsibility."

Heather nudged her reluctant husband. "Let's go; we can take Mandy and let her nap on our laps."

Phillip cringed. "Okay, but I'd rather take our Smurf to a kiddy matinee."

Having heard enough, Lee folded the newspaper and surveyed his family. "Hold it, people, slow down. The climate change deniers are already defensive about the movie, and the news media has underscored the doubters with regularity. Scientists and the general public have argued vehemently over the film's conclusions."

"Oh, Lee," Amanda countered. "I think the disagreements are overblown, sweetheart. Besides, the movie has been around a long time. Most people aren't paying attention now."

"Amanda, I'm just worried about the family. With Jenny's recent internet postings of her environmental activities, she has already made us vulnerable. Let's not attract more attention by parading the whole family into a controversial climate change movie."

"Daddy, please." Jenny rose from her chair and moved toward Lee, her beguiling eyes locked with his gaze.

"Humph," he grunted as he looked away, refusing to succumb to her charms.

Amanda squeezed her daughter's hand. "I don't think we'll attract attention if Jenny, Robby and I see the movie together – just the three of us. The rest of you can catch a different showing."

Lee sighed, knowing damn well he was licked. "No, we'll all go together."

* * *

**Bar Harbor Movie Theater**

The dark theater was mostly empty, save for a dozen senior citizens and a few college students. Clearly, the entire Stetson-King clan made up a third of the audience. Disappointed at the low turnout, Jenny was at least grateful her family had joined her.

"This is going to be so boring," Matt said as he slouched in his seat. Sitting in between his father and twin brother, he'd done nothing but grumble since they left the condo. Even with the previews showing, the kid was hell bent on making his sentiments unbearable for everyone.

Thankfully the family patriarch reached into his pocket and pulled out three ten dollar bills from his wallet. "Go buy yourselves some junk food to ease the pain. And bring back a super-size root beer and a tub of popcorn. We'll share the snacks with the whole family."

Jenny watched as her mother's slim fingers gripped her father's hand. She couldn't help but smile. Her mom and dad were so "cute" together. None of her friends had parents who were still noticeably mushy after decades of marriage.

Nudging her mother's side, Jenny rose to follow in the boys' wake. "I'll go with the twins and hurry them along. I don't want any of us to miss the start of the movie."

"Thank you, sweetheart."

Walking into the lobby, Jennifer steered her younger brothers to the shortest line at the concession counter. "Don't take all day," she reminded them as they began their negotiations over the options.

Leaning against a railing, she felt a firm tap on her shoulder. Whirling around, Jenny came face to face with an imposing young man. Thin as a fence post and seemingly twice as tall, his piercing hazel eyes stared at her through thick granny glasses. Unshaven and a bit scruffy, the guy's sandy hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Taking a cautious step backward, Jenny weighed the merits of engaging in conversation.

"Hi," he said, punctuating the word with a toothy grin. "Do you remember me? I'm Nathaniel Kearsley."

"Oh my gosh, Nate," Jenny said with a gasp. "I can't believe it's you. What a coincidence."

"Yeah, it's been a long time. . . ."

"Five years," she said. "What are you doing in Bar Harbor? I thought you lived out west."

"Not anymore. I'll be a sophomore at Boston University in the fall, but for most of the summer I've been staying with my grandfather here in town." Nate's earnest green eyes seemed to reach into her soul. "I was glad you 'friended' me on the internet," he continued. "It's terrific that we share the same interests, especially environmental justice."

"Yeah, that's pretty cool."

Nate dropped his gaze and shrugged. "So why did you bump me off the site today?"

Jenny caught the flash of hurt that shot across his face. "I didn't want to drop you, but my parents had other ideas. They disapprove of my account and are limiting me to local high school friends."

"I understand. Maybe we can email each other in private." Turning over his movie ticket and pulling out a pen from his pocket, Nate hastily scribbled down his information. "Send me a message when you have a chance. Then I can contact you."

"Thanks," she whispered as she stuffed his email address in her jacket pocket. Glancing over her shoulder, Jenny was relieved to see the boys still trying to spend down Dad's thirty dollars. She certainly didn't want her brothers tattling to their parents. The encounter with Nate would need to come from her lips.

"Listen," he said in a rush. "I saw your vacation post before you took it down. I know you're staying at the Sea View Resort. To be perfectly honest, I followed you here today."

"Oops, my parents warned me I might be stalked." Jenny bit her lip, wondering if she should be concerned or pleased. "Actually the post wasn't my idea. My kid brothers practically gave away the store when they tampered with my site and posted details of our vacation."

"Bummer, people should be careful about their content on the internet." Nate flashed a boyish grin and then sobered again. "In truth, I'm glad your brothers put up the post. Now I've found you and have the opportunity to ask a favor."

Surprised, Jenny's jaw dropped. "What kind of favor?"

"I'd like to come to your condo to see you and to discuss something with your parents. It's important, so we'll need some privacy to talk."

Skeptical of his intent, Jenny hesitated. Their whole encounter was just too weird. "I'll be sure to ask Mom and Dad. Maybe I should get them now."

"No, wait until later. You can email me their answer." Nate shuffled his feet and nervously scanned the periphery of the theater lobby.

Jenny discreetly followed his gaze, noting a burly character studying a movie poster. Dressed in work boots, camouflage pants, and a "Joe's Truck Stop" t-shirt, he seemed out of place at a matinee. "Nate, are you okay? Has someone been harassing you?"

"It happens sometimes." Nate managed a tight smile. "Just tell your parents I have some important environmental issues to discuss."

Jenny perked up immediately. "Oh, that's right down my alley, but the environment is a touchy subject with my parents. They think I'm much too vocal when it comes to saving the planet."

"Yeah," he said in his mellow baritone. "I know exactly what you mean." Grabbing her arms, he pulled her in close. "Just play along, okay. Pretend I'm your boyfriend, or something."

Her cheeks warmed at the suggestion. "Why?"

"I'm in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?" she asked, deciding to follow his lead. Placing her hands on his chest, she timidly looked into his eyes. "Maybe I'd better get my dad," she whispered.

"No, Jenny. Not here, not now. I think we're being watched."

"Do you mean the muscular guy in the camouflage pants?"

"Maybe," he said, nervously running a hand through his hair. "Listen, Jen, I'm going to shake this guy and lay low for a bit. Send me your email address, and we'll stay in touch." Stepping back, Nate started running toward the far end of the theater complex. The stranger rushed after him.

Jenny quickly collared her brothers. "Let's go, now."

The boys didn't budge. "We've ordered soft pretzels," Robby said. "They're still in the oven."

Yanking the bills from his hand, Jenny slapped the money on the counter. "I said now, Buster, so get moving." Piling the selected candy bars into the hands of her brothers, she grabbed the tub of popcorn and mega drink and then hurried the boys down the hallway.

Robby glared at his sister. "Hey, we had change coming from that wad of dough."

"Forget it," Jenny said, nudging him on.

Matt was furious. "I saw you with the straggly dude. I'm telling Dad and Mom."

"No you're not, Junior. I'll tell them myself."

* * *

**Sea View Resort Condo**

"Oh, Jen, I can hardly believe your news." Astonished, Amanda pressed a hand against her wildly thumping heart as she tried to wrap her mind around Jennifer's latest bombshell. "Let me get this straight, sweetheart. You're saying Nathaniel Kearsley suddenly appeared to you because he's in some kind of trouble."

"Yes," Jenny replied, her voice trembling.

"And you're saying someone chased him through the theater complex."

"That's right, Mom."

Lee paced across the master suite, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his bathrobe. "And Nate followed you to the theater because he wanted to talk to us?"

"Uh huh."

Lee was livid. The tic in his jaw worked overtime in an unsuccessful attempt to stem the tide of his temper. "You should have told us immediately," he barked, sparing her no mercy.

"I know, I know," she cried. Shivering in her thin shorty pajamas, Jenny collapsed on her parents' bed, cocooning herself in the comforter. "Daddy, I offered to get you from the theater, but Nate didn't want to meet with you in the lobby. Besides, after he disappeared, I wasn't sure what to tell you. I knew you'd be upset."

"Not this upset," Lee growled. "Jennifer, you sat on this information for seven hours."

Removing a bath towel from her hair, Amanda straightened the wet locks with her fingers as she wrestled with her own anger. "Sweetie, do you realize the consequences of your silence? You left Nate twisting in the wind, and you may have endangered our whole family."

Lee spun around on his bare feet, shaking a long finger at his daughter. "Honestly, Jennifer, you should have come to us at the first hint of danger. Now Nate has you tangled in his web. The kid disappeared from your life years ago, and suddenly he's back dumping his load of trouble right in your lap. Didn't alarm bells go off in your head?"

"He sought me out, Dad. I wasn't going to tell him to go away."

"He stalked you, Jennifer."

"I didn't ask him to come find me," Jenny said, her own hot temper fueling her angry words.

"Oh, no?" The vein in Lee's neck took on a purplish hue as he glared at his daughter. "You practically gave Nate an engraved invitation on your social network site."

"Dad," she defended, "the boys are responsible for posting our vacation lodging."

"Yes, but you're their older sister," he said, his fury raging at full force. "Jennifer, you willingly allowed your brothers to observe your posts. Certainly you realized the rascals were bound to get into mischief. Even if you sign out, Matt and Rob have a gift for figuring out passwords."

Outraged, Jenny slammed her fist into a pillow. "Maybe if you were as hard on them as you are on me, they would mind their own business. You and Mom cut them too much slack just because they're boys."

"Don't give me that favored child nonsense," Lee said, slicing the air with his hand. "Every time we discipline the boys, they feed us the same damn line."

"That's enough, you two." Amanda's voice rose above the fray. Trying to broker the peace, she sat down next to her daughter and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. "Casting blame won't help. It is what it is. Now we should focus on how to fix the problem."

While Jenny reached for a tissue and blew her nose, Lee relented and joined his wife and daughter on the bed. "I'm sorry, princess," he said, his voice thick with regret. "I'm only hard on you because I love you so much and want to keep you safe. Honestly, Jen, you scare me to death sometimes."

"I know, Dad," she sniffed. Leaning in, Jenny hugged both her parents. "There is something I should show you." Scooting to the floor, she pulled her jacket from a chair and began to search the pockets. "It's here, somewhere."

"What?" Lee and Amanda asked in tandem.

"Nate's email address. He gave it to me at the theater." Pulling the note from its hiding place, she waved it in the air. "Nate wants to keep in touch, but he has to receive a message from me in order to get my email address."

Lee pointed toward the door. "Then hurry, go get my computer from the shelf in the hall closet. Let's try sending a message."

As their daughter disappeared into the living room, Amanda's nervous energy propelled her from the bed. Standing in front of the window, she pulled back the drapes and watched the rain beat against the panes. Overhead jagged lightening turned the sky to tarnished silver, and booming thunder roared its mighty chorus. "Some vacation," Amanda murmured. "Once again our family is besieged with trouble, and the weather is as bleak as everyone's mood."

"Have you had enough yet?" Lee came up behind his wife and wrapped her in his arms. "Maybe we should pack up and head home."

"We're not going anywhere in this rain, sweetheart. And besides, Nate may need us."

Lee sighed. "Amanda, we have no idea what we're up against. It could get dangerous for our family."

"I doubt it. After all, the stranger didn't go after Jen and the boys."

"Not yet, anyway."

Amanda turned in her husband's embrace and laid her hand over his heart. "I want to get in touch with Jean Kearsley as soon as possible. She may be able to help us find Nate. At the very least, she needs to know he's in danger."

"Maybe I should call Francine."

"Do you want to involve the Agency?"

"No, it's too soon to call out the troops. However, Francine needs to be on the same page, and she can help us track down Jean."

Hearing the door open, Amanda looked up as their daughter returned with the laptop. "All set? Let's try to contact Nate."

Opening the webmail, Jenny hit compose and typed in the boy's email address. "What should I say?"

Amanda looked over her shoulder. "Keep it vague, sweetheart."

"Should I tell Nate that I'm worried about him?"

"No, be neutral," Lee said.

Jenny hunched over the keyboard and read aloud as she typed. "Let's talk soon. JGS."

"Good!" Lee brushed his lips through his daughter's hair. "We'll give him one hour to reply. If we hear nothing, I'm going to the police."

* * *

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Vacation Condo – August 20 – 12:30 a.m.**

After two hours with the local police, Lee was looking forward to a hot shower and crawling into bed with his wife. Snuggling up to Amanda would be compensation enough for today's frustrations. Climbing the stairs to the condo, he heard screams coming from inside the unit. "Oh my God." Reaching for his revolver, he slid the key into the lock and barged through the door, gun first.

Shrieks erupted and hands shot into the air as he stared at the horrified faces of his children. "What the hell?" Catching his breath, he pointed the gun toward the ceiling.

Phillip recovered first. "A little trigger happy there, aren't you, Lee?"

"Damn it, I heard screams."

Jamie laughed. "We're watching the movie, 'Poltergeist.' The girls got scared."

"Sorry, Lee," his daughter-in-laws chimed in together.

Matthew and Robert bolted to his side as he slipped his gun back into the holster. "Gee, Dad," Matt said, his eyes as round as saucers. "Are you working tonight?"

"Not really, buddy. I was just out checking on a little matter."

Robby nudged his side. "Need to know, huh?"

"It's nothing, guys." Placing his arms around their shoulders, he walked them back to the sofa. "Are Jenny and Mom asleep?"

"Not anymore." Clearly annoyed, Amanda stood in the doorway of the master bedroom, her arms hugging her thin frame. "Honestly, Lee, did you have to come in with your gun drawn?"

"Well, yeah. I was standing out in the pouring rain when the screaming started. I wasn't going to ask questions first and take necessary precautions later."

"I know, sweetheart. They frightened me, too." Amanda motioned him into the bedroom. "Get in here," she said, tossing her robe on the bed and reaching to hug him.

Lee dodged her embrace. "I'm soaked to the skin," he warned, carefully removing his jacket and hanging it on a hook. Then turning around, he saw they weren't alone. "What's this?" he asked, pointing to the long lump in their bed. "Is Mandy under the covers with her stuffed giraffe?"

"No, it's Jenny. She has an upset stomach, so she crawled in with me."

"I hope she's okay," he said, at the same time wondering if they'd ever have the bed to themselves. Removing his gun and holster and locking them in his suitcase, Lee shook his head at the absurdity of their sleeping arrangements. "Next time we take a family vacation, let's give the master suite to the kids, and we'll tough it out in a small bedroom. Maybe the old folks will have more privacy that way."

Amanda smiled knowingly as she helped him shrug out of his wet shirt. "So, how did it go with the police?"

He nodded toward the bathroom and led the way in, closing the door behind them. "Honestly, we can't catch a break. After two hours, I came up empty."

"Oh, Lee, that's awful." Amanda sagged against the vanity, her thin nightgown leaving little to the imagination.

Pulling his mind from the enticing vision before him, Lee attempted to brief her on his investigation. "The police have no clues to Nate's whereabouts, nor do they have any knowledge of a Kearsley family in Bar Harbor. If the kid is staying in the area, like he told Jenny, it's a mystery to everyone."

"What about Jean? Did anyone contact her?" Amanda toyed with the buttons on her gown as Lee turned on the shower and stripped down.

"No," he said, stepping into the steamy spray. "Our efforts to contact Jean Kearsley failed miserably."

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry you had to go on a wild goose chase."

Lee stuck his head around the shower door. "You could make it up to me," he said with a wink. "Just lock the damn door and get in here with your husband. The least you can do is wash my back."

"Hmm," she said with a sly smile. Hesitating briefly, she pretended to give his invitation careful consideration. Then nodding, she placed her hand on the lock and secured it in place. About to pull her nightgown over her head, she stopped in mid-motion when a hard knock hit the door. "Mom," Robby called in panic mode. "Matthew's throwing up, and I don't feel so great, either."

Sighing softly, Amanda turned toward her husband. "You're right, sweetheart; we can't catch a break."

* * *

**SMK, SMK, SMK**

Awaking in the middle of the night, Amanda read the numbers on the digital bedside clock. Her tired mind registered the ungodly hour of four o'clock and the fact that both her husband and daughter were missing from the bed. Apparently Lee never returned after he decided to watch the movie with the night owls, and Jenny must have awakened and finally abandoned ship.

Worrying about the bizarre situation with Nate and the stomach bug being passed around her family, she tossed and turned for thirty minutes. Finally giving up on sleep, Amanda padded into the living room. There was her husband, snoring softly as he lay sprawled in a recliner. Jenny was curled in a ball on the futon, and the twins were buried under a blanket on the sleeper sofa. Deciding to enjoy the sounds of the surf, Amanda slipped on a coat and stuck her feet into Jenny's Crocs. Then pulling open the sliding glass door, she stepped into the murky night.

The rain had finally ended, leaving the deck furniture soaked with standing water. Reaching into a storage bin, Amanda retrieved dry cushions and arranged them on the chaise lounge. Then taking a front row seat for stargazing, she listened to the sound of the surf and silently searched the heavens for inspiration.

Maybe the answers to her troubling questions were somewhere out there in the vast universe or maybe simply hiding deep within herself. Examining the familiar constellations, she reflected on the family's transitions – the twins' personality shift as they entered their teens, Jenny's declaration of independence, and Lee's reluctance to loosen the reins on his children.

In many ways her husband's obsessive protectiveness mirrored his actions when she achieved full agent status. Not only had he resisted the new autonomy of his protégé, but he'd balked at her return to the field after she'd recovered from a gunshot wound. They had butted heads for months until Lee finally allowed himself to step back and cheer her on as she spread her wings. Now it was time for Lee to bow to the changing stages of childhood and youth, for his own sake and for the sake of the entire family.

Finally feeling a sense of peace, Amanda pulled her warm barn coat more snuggly around her nightgown and nestled into the cushions. Exhaustion seemed to overtake her, so she closed her eyes for just a moment. Maybe a few extra winks would prepare her to meet the new day.

"Hey, sleepyhead, it's time to wake up." The words called to her through the hazy images of a nonsensical dream.

Opening her eyes, Amanda was surprised to see the sun shining brightly in the sky and the tall figure of her husband standing over her. "Oh, sweetheart, I must have dozed off."

"Yeah, for hours. I searched everywhere before I found you out here. After our rough night, I decided to let you sleep."

"Are the kids okay?"

"They're fine. Whatever you gave the boys seemed to settle their stomachs." Lee turned away and focused his attention on the ocean view. "Everyone else, except Jenny, is dead to the world," he called over his shoulder.

Amanda cringed at his word choice. "Well, I wish you had awakened me; we have a big day ahead." Noting the rigidity of his back, she wondered what else was going on. "Is there any news about Nate?"

"Nothing."

"How's Jenny taking the silence?"

"It's hard, but she's like her mother – patient and optimistic."

Rising slowly and stretching out the kinks in her body, Amanda studied Lee as he rested his forearms on the railing and stared out to sea. "It's a beautiful day, sweetheart."

"Yeah," he said, his voice sounding flat. "God, I'm glad it stopped raining."

Moving next to him, Amanda felt familiar warmth fluttering in her chest. Irresistibly drawn by his strong masculinity, she wrapped a hand around his arm, where the green polo shirt brushed his bicep. "It's going to be a glorious day. The water is sparkling like diamonds, and the sky is a vibrant blue. I'm so glad we agreed to take the 'CAT' over to Nova Scotia."

Lee shrugged, but said nothing.

His silence spoke volumes. Something was bothering him besides the mystery of Nate. She cautiously danced around his bad mood. "I think you guys stayed up too late watching scary movies. 'Poltergeist' probably disturbed your sleep."

"I slept fine," he said, growling like an angry bear.

She rolled her eyes. "How much sleep can you get in a recliner? Honestly, Lee, you abandoned me in a king size bed."

"Only you weren't alone. Jenny was there."

"She left at some point, and I woke up all alone in the middle of the night." Hoping to penetrate his shell, Amanda gently glided her hand around the waistband of his jeans and rested her fingers on the small of his back. "Really, Lee, we need to get on the same page if we want to enjoy some romance on our trip."

"Humph, romance will need to take a ticket and get in line." Abruptly he broke their physical contact and stood ramrod straight in front of her. "Amanda, I hate like hell to disappoint you, but I made a unilateral decision about our plans."

"Oh?" She crossed her arms over her chest, bracing for his proclamation.

His eyes were stormy as he groped for words. "I, ah, decided against buying the ferry tickets to Nova Scotia."

"Why?" Amanda bit her lip, valiantly trying to control her temper. "Sweetheart, the rain has practically made us prisoners in the condo. Everyone has been looking forward to the trip."

"I'm well aware of that fact," he said tersely. Then sighing, Lee trained his eyes away from her gaze. "When Jenny and I got up at the crack of dawn to go buy the tickets, the peculiar man with the fishing hat was sitting outside our building. As soon as he saw us, the guy got up and followed us downtown. When he showed up in the ticket line, he butted in and attempted to engage us in conversation. Bottom line – we left without the tickets."

"Honestly, Lee," she said with exasperation. "You're not going to harp on the nice old man again, are you? Mr. Baxter may be talkative, but he's probably just lonely. You can't be serious about expecting foul play?"

"I'm dead serious." Lee pinched the bridge of his nose, giving early warning that a full-blown headache was taking hold. "Listen, Amanda, if we get on that ferry we'll be stuck on high seas for three hours. The kids will be all over the boat. You know damn well there are two eateries, a gift shop, and a movie theater, not to mention seats in four separate sections. We can't watch everyone at once."

Desperate to end the standoff, Amanda bit back a scathing rebuke. "Okay," she finally said, conceding victory to him. "You win. We're not going to take the high speed ferry."

Lee's whole body sagged with relief as the old Stetson grin slid into place. "Thank you." Reaching for his wife, he pulled her close. "I owe you one."

"Fine," she said, sliding her hands around his neck. "I'd like to collect now."

"What did you have in mind?" he teased, moving in for a kiss.

With a devilish laugh, she pulled back. "Not romance, pal. You missed your chance. Now I want carte blanche to rally the troops and enjoy a real vacation day of our choosing."

"I should have known." With a heavy sigh, Lee extended his arm toward the deck door. "Be my guest, but don't blame me if today comes back to haunt us."

* * *

**SMK, SMK, SMK**

After the family's initial disappointment, everyone finally agreed on a new agenda. Lee, Matt, and Robby decided to go horseback riding on the carriage trails in Acadia National Park. Phillip and Heather chose to take Mandy to a children's amusement park. The rest of the team planned to soak in some of the rich history of the area.

"Behave your selves, fellas," Amanda called to Lee and the twins as she joined her daughter in the backseat of Jamie's Jeep.

Upfront, her son conferred with Lisa and then made their preferences known. "Let's drive around town and see what we spot. I know the area is crawling with exciting history. We can probably see a number of mansions of the rich and famous. Too bad, most of the estates burned to the ground in the 1947 fire."

Amanda reached into her shoulder bag and pulled out a bunch of brochures. Dangling them over the front seat, she put Jamie and his wife in charge. "Choose something."

Lisa thumbed through the leaflets. "Oh, there's an historical presentation of Mount Desert Island near here. We should take a right at the next light."

Jamie maneuvered the Jeep through the snarled tourist traffic and finally pulled onto a quiet tree-lined street. Going two blocks toward the steep landscape, he came to a stop in front of a three-story Victorian home. Painted a celery green and lemon yellow, the house was graced with a large wrap-around porch and white gingerbread trim. The generous grounds were shaded with sugar maples, white birch and spruce trees. The final touch was a high wrought-iron fence that surrounded the perimeter of the property.

Jenny stared up at the imposing structure. "Wow, even the windows have wrought iron bars. The house looks creepy to me."

Amanda reached over and patted her daughter's tan leg. "It is a curious attraction, but the place has a lot of charm. Someone truly loves to garden. The pansies, peonies, and hydrangeas have been pruned with tender care."

Lisa consulted the pamphlet once more. "The information says the place opens at ten o'clock. We're just in time." Opening her door, she beckoned to the others.

Gathering on the sidewalk, the little group walked through the gate and made their way to the porch steps. At the same instant, the front door creaked open, and they were greeted by none other than Oliver Wendell Baxter. Too late, Amanda realized her mistake. She'd totally forgotten about the leaflet he'd given her at Thunder Hole. Unfortunately, it was the very one chosen by Lisa.

"Welcome, Mrs. Stetson," the old man called. "I'm glad you and the family could come to browse my collection. Young people love a good fire story."

The bumbling gentleman of the park tour seemed delighted to see them. On his own turf, he appeared more in command of his faculties, and he'd definitely improved his appearance. Missing were his rumpled fishing hat and bulky leisure suit, replaced instead with a spiffy sports coat, crisp white slacks, and red bow tie. Even his kinky curls had been neatly brushed into place.

Thinking about Lee's bizarre encounter with the man, Amanda's instincts went on high alert. Cautiously she debated the wisdom of entering Oliver's domain. Rooted to the sidewalk, she felt like someone had just walked on her grave.

Mr. Baxter interrupted her thoughts as he painstakingly descended the steps, his limp still very apparent. Extending his arm, he graciously assisted her to the wide porch. Then with a grand gesture, he ushered the others through the sturdy oak front door. Detaining Amanda briefly, he pulled an envelope from his inside coat pocket and placed it in her hand. "Please read my letter at the first opportunity. We need to talk."

Startled, Amanda gingerly held his missive as if it were an explosive device. My God, what now? Seeing the others watching, she slipped the envelope into her purse.

Jamie moved closer, his eyes questioning. "Mom, our host looks like the suspicious guy on our tour. I don't think Lee would be happy we're here."

"I know," she said, masking her reservations with a tight smile. "We'll have a brief visit and be on our way."

After entering the foyer and introducing the others, Amanda perused the stunning surroundings. The house had a personality all its own, practically throbbing with the vigor of life. Tall stately windows welcomed the sunshine, and a grand winding staircase swept downward to the shiny hardwood floor.

Amanda was relieved to note the elaborate art collection of Mount Desert Island and the meticulous paintings of Acadia National Park. With its attractive displays and extensive library, the place appeared to be a small authentic museum. The front parlor was set up with folding chairs. An overhead projector stood ready on a table, and a screen was standing in front of the fireplace.

Mr. Baxter extended his arm toward the parlor. "I've organized a show of old photographs taken during the 1947 fire on Mount Desert Island. Would you be interested in seeing my presentation?"

"Sounds great," Jamie said as he placed his hand on the small of Lisa's back and steered her toward the seating.

Jenny stayed by her mother's side. "I still think the house is spooky."

"It just smells a little musty, sweetheart." Amanda took Jenny's hand, not only reassuring her daughter, but herself as well.

Mr. Baxter escorted them to the first row of chairs and then pulled the shades in the bay window. "I guess we can get started. Tourists don't often come so early in the morning." Turning on the projector, he fumbled with the focus. As he fiddled with knobs, he gave a little background leading up to the start of the fire. "The summer of 1947 was beautiful, but the area received only about fifty percent of the normal rainfall. Vegetation dried up and water supplies dwindled. Everyone assumed that the autumn rainfall would make up for the summer drought, but the rains never came. The stage was set for a disastrous fire."

It took a few tries before Oliver had the picture in focus. The first grainy photo depicted a brush fire close to the great pines of the Acadia forest. "The date was October 17, 1947," he continued in a crystal clear tone that captivated his audience. "The fire department received a call from a woman, living west of Hulls Cove. She reported seeing smoke coming from a cranberry bog. No one worried at first because the fire smoldered underground and burned a relatively small area. However, on October 21, strong winds fanned the flames. Soon the blaze spread rapidly, raging out of control and engulfing over two thousand acres."

Amanda glanced at the rest of her gang. They all seemed absorbed by the presentation. So far, so good, she thought as she fingered the envelope in her bag. Ignoring the urge to peek, she concluded the time wasn't right to read it.

The next photo clearly showed an immense forest fire. Mr. Baxter's voice grew with excitement as he described the event. "On October 23, the wind shifted, causing a raging inferno that headed directly toward Bar Harbor. In less than three hours, the wildfire swept down Millionaires Row, an amazing collection of stately summer cottages on the shore of Frenchman Bay. Sixty-seven of the seasonal estates were destroyed. The fire also razed 170 permanent homes and five large historic hotels in the area surrounding downtown Bar Harbor."

"Oh my gosh," Jenny said, chewing her nails, in her sure-fire method to tame her anxiety.

Amanda began to relax a little. Oliver Baxter's peculiar actions may have raised some red flags, but he seemed in command of his facts today. And, surprisingly, his presentation was thoroughly professional. He had a wonderful speaking voice, so unlike his "aw shucks, ma'am" twang he employed at Thunder Hole.

Lisa raised her hand. "Did people escape by car?" she asked.

"At first they did." Oliver seemed pleased by the audience participation. "However, on the afternoon of October 23, the fire traveled six miles and blocked all the roads out of town. Thankfully, that evening, bulldozers opened a pathway through the flames and rubble. Seven hundred automobiles, carrying two thousand people, began the slow trip to safety. Those who escaped by car described a terrifying ride. Vehicles were pelted by sparks as flames flickered overhead. By the end of the day, eleven thousand acres had been blackened."

"Wow," Jamie said. "How did others get out?"

"By water." Mr. Baxter put up several more pictures in quick succession. "Local residents, who weren't fighting the fire, fled to the athletic field and then to the town pier. Fishermen from other towns came with their boats to remove hundreds of people by sea."

Lisa spoke up again. "How did they stop the fire?"

"The fire blew itself out over the ocean in a massive fire ball." Hesitating, Oliver suddenly seemed upset. Nervously hobbling toward the door, he seemed to sniff the air. Then turning to the group he announced, "I smell smoke. We'd better leave now."

No one moved. Mr. Baxter had to be joking.

"Hurry people," he yelled, panic rising in his voice.

Then Amanda smelled it, too. She was on her feet in a snap. "Let's go," she ordered. My God, all Lee's suspicions were coming to fruition. Rushing to the foyer with the family on her heels, she caught up with their host.

Oliver Baxter was frantically trying to open the front door, but it appeared stuck. His hands were visibly shaking as he wrestled with the lock. "Someone has turned the dead bolt and taken the key."

Amanda and the girls ran to the bay window and pulled up the shades. "Oh my gosh, the windows are barred."

Oliver waved his arms, signaling his intent. "Follow me," he hollered. "We'll leave through the back door." Like a stampeding herd of cattle, they raced through the house, the old man barely keeping pace with his guests. As they reached the dining room, smoke could be seen pouring from the kitchen. "Go back," Baxter warned in a high shrill voice.

Anxiously they retraced their steps. By now flames were visible from the top of the staircase. Trying to reach the roof was no longer an option.

Jamie tossed his cell phone to Lisa. "Call 911," he yelled, his voice sounding thick with alarm. Then joining Oliver at the front door, they struggled again with the lock.

Amanda turned to her daughter. "Jenny, call Dad. He needs to know what's happening."

Running from window to window, Amanda searched for any possible exit. There had to be an opening somewhere. Overhearing a desperate Jenny breaking the news to her dad, she longed to hear her husband's voice. My God, if they didn't climb out of this inferno, she'd never hear his voice again. Chances were slim to none that Lee would ride in on a white steed in time to save the day. No, if they were going to make it out, her dependable instincts needed to kick in fast.

Then she saw it – a ray of hope, shining through the stain glass transom, just above the front door. "Look," she cried, pointing to the luminous gold and green window. "It's hinged, so it should be movable. If we can fit through the opening, we have our escape hatch."

The others nodded and began moving furniture. Jamie and Oliver shoved over a Duncan Phyfe table and Lisa added a matching chair. After pocketing her phone, Jenny wiped tears from eyes and grabbed a stack of large books to add to the pile. "I caught Daddy at a western attire shop," she said, her voice quivering with fear. "They haven't left town yet. He's really upset, but he's already on his way here."

Amanda hugged her daughter. "Okay, here's the plan." We need Jamie to squeeze through the opening and jump to the porch. Then each of us will slide through, and he can assist us on the other side. Just pray we fit."

Coughing now from the smoke, Jamie eyed the escape route and then plunged ahead. "Here I go," he said, pausing only to squeeze Lisa's hand. Boldly climbing to the highest perch, he searched for an opening. "There's nothing to grab onto," he hollered. Jamming his fingers into the rim, he tried to find leverage.

Amanda rummaged through the compartments of her large shoulder bag until her hand closed over a sharp object. "Here," she said, handing up a fingernail clipper.

Jamie managed to wedge the sharp stem into the rim and yank the transom away from the doorframe. Then pulling his body upward, he twisted and wiggled like Harry Houdini until he maneuvered through the opening and dropped to the porch floor with a thud.

Choking now from the pungent fumes, Amanda stood on the table and quickly assisted both girls and Oliver with their ascent. As she heaved the old man's thin legs toward the opening, she felt out of breath and out of time. The flames were devouring the banister and stairs and the smoke was sucking the oxygen from the room. Weak from the effort, she cautiously scaled the makeshift ladder and struggled to hoist herself through the transom.

"Mom, come on," Jamie called, raw panic evident in his voice.

Swinging a leg across the window, she slid her hips and trunk through the narrow passage and felt her son's long arms guide her body to safety. With feet finally on the floor, she took the first saving breaths of life and leaned into Jamie as he rushed her to hallowed ground, amidst the trees and shrubs and flowers. "Thank God, we made it," she sighed, luxuriating in the tight embraces of Jenny and Lisa.

After getting her bearings, danger trumped relief. Counting noses, Amanda came up short. "Where's Mr. Baxter?" she shouted.

Jamie scanned the periphery. "Over there," he cried, pointing toward a basement window. "He's helping more people from the house."

Paralyzed by the sight, everyone starred in disbelief as two men and a woman crawled from the depths of a certain tomb. At any second, the basement would surely be buried under a pile of rubble.

Jenny caught on first. "Nate," she screamed as she took off running. In seconds, she flew into welcoming arms.

"What's going on?" Jamie demanded.

Amanda studied the new arrivals, her eyes immediately drawn to the attractive blonde woman. As recognition dawned, she gasped. "Oh my gosh, it's Jean and Nate Kearsley . . . and someone I don't know."

Gasping for air, the little group merged with the others. Amanda reached out first and pulled Jean into a fierce hug. "What a way to have a reunion," she cried, rocking her friend back and forth while joy and despair competed for dominance.

Approaching sirens wailed, and emergency vehicles rumbled down the street. In the lead was the Stetsons' van, yielding the right away to no one. Pulling up on the neighbor's lawn, Lee screeched to a halt and flew from the vehicle like a bat out of hell. In a matter of seconds, he was there, sweeping Amanda and their children into his long arms.

"Sweetheart, we're okay," she assured him when he finally heaved a sigh of relief.

His mouth moved in anguish, but no words would form. Closing his eyes, he all but crushed her to his chest. "God," he finally choked, "I was afraid you'd all be dead."

"I know, Lee. It was a very close call." Sinking deeper into his embrace, she barely glimpsed the frightened faces of Matty and Robby watching from the van as the grand old house was consumed by fire. Managing a wave of reassurance for the twins, she sagged against her husband, wishing for nothing more than the safe haven of the Stetsons' Maryland homestead.

Then a voice breeched their space, calling their attention to the other survivors. "Amanda, Lee," Jean said. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but the police want to talk to us."

Lee looked up in surprise, taking in the familiar face of Jean Kearsley. "Oh, my God, you're here?"

Wiping soot from her cheeks, Jean beckoned to her companions. "Lee and Amanda, you remember my son, Nate, and I think you both met my father, Oliver Baxter. "I'd also like to introduce Dr. Malcolm Earl Jessup, my boss and an eminent climate scientist."

"Dr. Jessup, it's an honor," Amanda said with a gracious smile.

Lee stood slacked-jawed as he studied the bedraggled group. "Dr. Jessup," he finally said, "We're federal agents and have been briefed on your work and the threats you've received. We want to help you."

The climatologist smiled with relief. "Good, we're looking forward to talking with you."

Oliver Baxter stepped forth, proffering his hand to Lee. "I apologize for being a pack of trouble, but, in my own clumsy way, I was trying to gain your trust. Now you can see why I followed you."

"I asked my father to invite you here," Jean said. "When Nate discovered Jenny's social media web page, I assured my family the Stetsons would help us."

Amanda exchanged a wary look with her husband as she silently kissed their vacation good-bye. "We'll need to get you to a safe location – right now."

* * *

**TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

**C****hapter 5 - Vacation Condo – Evening of August 20**

Bone weary, Lee dragged himself through the front door of the condo, knowing his selfless Amanda had already stowed the Kearsley family and the endangered scientist in the midst of his loved ones. Certainly the situation was inviting another disaster, but they'd have to endure the risk until the Agency could make other arrangements.

"Hi, sweetheart," Amanda said as she silently crossed the deserted living room to greet her husband. "You look exhausted." Melting into his arms, she kissed him firmly on the lips, easing his tension as no one else ever could.

Finally, Lee asked the obvious question. "Where is everyone hiding?"

Amanda sighed. "I'm sure the kids feel evicted, but they took over the bedrooms to give our house guests some privacy. Jean and her father and Dr. Jessup are in the kitchen. Nate is in our bedroom with Jenny and the twins."

"Oh, that sounds cozy." His brow furrowed with concern.

Amanda laughed. "Don't' worry, Daddy, the last time I checked, the four of them were busy with the Wii Sports bowling." Putting a finger under his chin, she caught his gaze. "Lee, we're all concerned about the fire. Was it arson?"

"That's my guess; after all, the house was consumed quickly. Most likely the fire was set in more than one place. However, the investigation isn't complete, so we can't assume anything."

"Sweetheart, are we in danger?"

"I hope not. This may simply be a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, I don't want to hang around Bar Harbor for two more days. Let's head home tomorrow." Lee pulled her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "God, Amanda, I can't shake the horror of today. When Jenny called and said you were trapped in a burning house, I drove like a maniac to reach you, but I was damn sure I'd arrive too late."

"I know, sweetheart, I was afraid it was a lost cause, too." Amanda slid her hands around his shoulders, working the muscles until she felt the tension release. "Lee, I can't tell you how sorry I am. I should have marched the family right back to the Jeep as soon as Mr. Baxter appeared at the door."

"Hey, don't be so hard on yourself," he said, leaning back and loosening his grip on her waist. "Your instincts were right on the mark. Baxter is every bit the gentleman you claimed him to be, and you found Nate, Jean, and the missing scientist. Besides, you got everyone out of that inferno unscathed. I'd say you batted a thousand today."

Amanda blushed at his ringing endorsement. "Thanks, pal, I needed the affirmation."

"So," he said with a nod toward the kitchen, "how are our guests doing?"

"They're rather dazed. A detective was here to debrief them."

"Well, it is Agency business, too," Lee said as he ran a tired hand through his hair. "Someone from the Boston office should be here soon to take the Kearsley family and Dr. Jessup to a more secure location."

"I know they'll be relieved, but don't you want to hear their story while they're still here."

"Absolutely."

"Good," Amanda said as she brushed a lock of hair from his brow. "Our visitors are anxious to talk to both of us together."

"Then let's get the questioning over with. We'll need Nate to join us." Lee reluctantly left the comfort of his wife's arms and moved toward the master bedroom. With a quick knock, he pushed open the door, noting with alarm that Jennifer and the Kearsley kid were sitting at the foot of the bed, holding hands. "Hey, gang, what's going on?"

"Hey, Dad," the twins called as they wrestled on the floor.

Jen reddened and quickly pulled her fingers from Nate's hand. "Hi, Dad; we were just watching television and, you know, talking."

"Yeah, I can see that," he said dryly. Beckoning toward Nate, the teen couple scrambled from the bed and hurried to his side. "I only need your friend," he said with a pointed look for his daughter.

Jenny opened her mouth to protest, but then seemed to think twice before she challenged her father. "I'll be right here, Nate."

Moving to the kitchen, Lee nodded to the guests and then filled his mug with coffee. Joining the group at the table, he stated his position. "Agents will arrive soon to escort you to a safe house, but, I promise, Amanda and I will get to the bottom of today's disaster. Whatever details you can share now may speed up our investigation."

"Thank you, Lee." Jean sighed and pulled herself together, drawing from a well of strength that had served her in the past. "How far back should I go in my details?"

"Why don't you bring us up to speed since the 1985 protest at the Bethesda Ordnance Lab."

Jean took a deep breath and plunged ahead. "Well, a lot has happened since "Our Mothers for a Safe Environment" march. When I cleared my name after the Robert Castille debacle, my estranged husband returned home, and we tried to reconcile. Gerry had never approved of my social activism, and I had never learned to live with his drinking. However, we both felt we needed to try again, not just for ourselves, but for our daughters, too. So, he went into treatment for his alcoholism, and I swore off protest marches. Things went well for a few years, and Nathaniel was born. Then in 1990 our laundry business began to fail, and Gerry sought relief in the bottle again."

Amanda placed a comforting hand on Jean's arm. "I'm sorry, but I didn't realize your family was going through a rough time after Nate was born."

Jean nodded in understanding. "I put on a brave face and found solace in my environmental causes. In the 1990s, I got caught up in the toxic pollution that threatened the Spring Valley area in northwest Washington D.C. Before the prominent community was developed, the land was used by the U.S. Army for conducting chemical warfare research and training during World War I. Eventually luxurious homes, embassy residences, a university, theological seminary, and a college of law were built on top of hazardous substances, weaponry, and explosive waste. In 1993, during excavation, unexploded ordnance was found, as well as high levels of arsenic in the soil. The clean-up process was slow and arduous."

"Yes," Lee said, "we were aware of the situation."

Obviously tense, Jean wrung her hands in perpetual motion. "As you well know, I can be quite vocal, so once again I made a name for myself through protests. All too soon, I was back in the uncomfortable spotlight and stirring up trouble for my family. My return to social activism proved to be the final blow to my already shaky marriage. We separated again and finally divorced in 2001. Gerry moved on to Pennsylvania where he decided to try farming his parents' land."

"Is that when you took the girls and Nate out west?" Amanda asked.

"Yes, I found employment in Texas, working as an administrative assistant to Dr. Malcolm Jessup, our esteemed climatologist."

Lee looked up from his notes, waiting for the straight-faced Jessup to jump into the conversation.

The bearded gentleman ran splayed fingers through his graying hair and peered over the top of his horn rimmed glasses. "If today's harrowing experience was arson, than I suspect I'm the main target. I've been making enemies from coast to coast in my effort to educate the public about climate change."

Amanda offered a reassuring smile. "I remember seeing your television interviews, years ago. I don't recall you being threatened in the past."

"Times have changed." Bracing his slender arms on the table, Jessup's intense dark eyes scanned the group. "I've done climate research for decades and published some books and articles on global warming. In the eighties, I was a frequent guest on talk shows. However, in the nineties, the media pretty much ignored me. Over time, people grew weary of conservation, and they happily bought gas guzzling vehicles and built mega mansions. It took a Hurricane Katrina to wake them up. Then with an increase in extreme weather patterns, people began to take notice. Even so, the climate change deniers have worked tirelessly to undermine my findings."

"Certainly films like 'An Inconvenient Truth,' have helped to get the word out," Amanda added. "However, I'm afraid a large segment of the population portrays climate change as a hoax."

"You're absolutely right," Jessup said. "Even worse, the government has not heeded the warnings. Many politicians have refused to take serious action on global warming. There aren't many years left before we reach the tipping point and the planet is irreparably harmed."

Amanda's head bobbed in agreement. "The situation sounds dire. No wonder the three of you are protesting as if the survival of humanity depends upon your actions."

Lee grunted at the dismal assessment. As his wife caught his gaze, he quickly looked away. In his opinion, Amanda was being overly sympathetic toward the climatologist and his cohorts. She had definitely cast herself in the role of the "good cop" in their debriefing.

The astute Dr. Jessup watched their silent exchange with interest, but then he continued his explanation. "Political leaders, in both parties, are firmly on the side of the fossil fuel industry. Rather than cutting pollution, they want to add to the problem by increasing the production of natural gas and oil in the United States. Hydraulic fracturing, more commonly known as fracking, is making extraction possible on a very large scale."

"From what I've read, horizontal drilling is more dangerous than the traditional method of vertical drilling," Amanda said.

Jessup nodded. "In fracking for natural gas, the well is drilled vertically for thousands of feet and then the wellbore is turned horizontally for thousands of feet, in order to tap tiny pockets and veins of gas in hard to reach areas. In order to break apart rock, millions of gallons of water per well are needed for the process, along with sand and toxic chemicals."

Lee's brow furrowed as he listened carefully. Jessup's views certainly bumped up against mighty voices. He may as well be swinging a slingshot at giants. "I don't need to tell you that many Americans welcome horizontal drilling as a great way to reduce the United States' dependence on foreign oil. And, too, isn't natural gas a cleaner fuel?"

"Yes, in some respects," Dr. Jessup said. "Natural gas does burn cleaner than coal, but it is not a low-carbon fuel. It definitely increases the amount of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, which, in turn, warms the air temperatures, juices the weather cycles, and hastens climate change. Even worse, fracking for natural gas releases methane which is even more dangerous to the environment than carbon dioxide."

Nate leaned forward in his seat, chomping at the bit to unload his gripes. "You haven't seen anything until you've watched tap water lit on fire from the methane that seeps into residential wells. When landowners sign on the dotted line, they may not realize a drilling rig can end up near their backdoor. In fact they may be surprised to find multiple drilling rigs sprouting up on their land, along with a huge holding pond for the toxic waste from the drilling. The noise and bright lights from fracking invade their space 24/7."

"Fracking is an accident waiting to happen," Jean added, "especially for people who live nearby or work with the drilling. Toxic chemicals find their way into the air, water, soil and food. Animals are dying and residents are getting sick with nose bleeds, skin rashes, breathing problems, and more. An increase in cancer cases and birth defects won't be far behind."

Dr. Jessup politely followed their comments and then trained his eyes on Lee. "We were hoping the government would get behind clean energy like wind and solar power, but instead the lion's share of subsidies has gone to the fossil fuel industry."

Lee shook his head at the united front. "It seems like I'm the only one here playing the devil's advocate, but all of you are butting up against a very large contingent of pro-fracking fans. Many people credit the industry with turning struggling communities into boom towns."

"Yes, it sounds great until the boom becomes a bust, and the frackers move on," Nate said. "Then the royalties and lucrative jobs will disappear and the land will be worthless. No one will want to buy food grown in contaminated soil or drink milk from sick cows?"

Amanda nudged her husband's side. "Just imagine what the toxic air and water would do to Matty and Robby if we ever had to live near drilling. They already suffer from asthma. Children shouldn't become test dummies when an industry encroaches on homes, schools and farms."

Lee resigned himself to the role of bad cop. "Listen, I'm concerned, too, but our dependence on foreign oil is a national security issue. I don't want our children to grow up and have to fight for oil in the Middle East." Stifling another contrary remark, he turned to Jean. "Have you been carrying a bullhorn right along with Dr. Jessup?"

Jean laughed. "You know me; I can't resist speaking out. I've been seen parading my 'No Drill, No Spill' placards in many towns. Even Nathaniel has gotten into the act, and he's very committed to standing up and speaking out."

Nate nodded. "I spend my school vacations protesting against mountaintop removal mining, the Canadian tar sands, and horizontal gas drilling. Even though I'm dedicated to non-violence resistance, I've been arrested a couple of times and acquired my share of enemies. People who want to lease their land for natural gas drilling resent my intrusions. They see money while others in their communities see a threat to their homes, health, and way of life."

"So you stir up trouble among neighbors on different sides of the issue?" Lee shook his head in dismay. God, would this be his daughter someday? "So, Dr. Jessup, apparently you've also amassed some enemies by speaking your version of truth to power."

"Hump," the man grunted. "I'm afraid the powerful aren't listening. Politicians are seduced by lobbyists and corporate money. I'm seen as the troublemaker. Even in my home state of Texas, some people refer to me as a 'fracking insurgent'."

"You have a friend in Congressman Aubrey Penneywell," Lee said, glad to inject some good news into the discussion. "He contacted the Agency to inform us of the threats you've received."

Dr. Jessup smiled. "Good for him; at least I have one politician in my corner. However, someone seems to be trying hard to silence me for good."

"Can you provide us with names of people who may want you dead?" Lee asked.

The scientist shook his head. "I have no names to share. I've mostly received unsigned letters and been tormented by bullies at speaking events."

Amanda studied Dr. Jessup. "Sir, if I'm correct, you and Jean have gone into hiding. You must have felt directly threatened."

"Yes, we did," Jessup agreed. "Ten days ago, Jean and I attended a Boston conference on climate change, and I was a guest speaker. When it was over, a truck tailed us from the parking lot. When we left the congestion of the city traffic, the vehicle came alongside and tried to force us off the road. Fortunately, we were able to avoid disaster, but we concluded it was time to take a break from my speaking engagements and keep a low profile."

"I called my father," Jean added. "He invited us to spend some time with him in Bar Harbor."

"How about you, Nate?" Lee asked. "Do you know who chased you through the movie theater?"

Nate shrugged. "The guy looked familiar. I think he appeared at several town meetings this summer, so he heard me voice my objections to fracking."

Amanda turned to the strangely quiet Oliver Baxter. "Have you felt threatened, too?"

Mr. Baxter smiled weakly. "Maybe I'm paranoid, but I think someone has deemed me guilty by association. All I wanted to do was help my family, and now my lovely home and little museum are gone."

"What will you do?" Amanda asked as she clasped the old man's hand.

Oliver offered a brave smile. "When the threat passes, I'll stay with my sister in Bangor, Maine, but that's not my chief concern."

"Oh?" Amanda raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"My biggest regret is having lured you into our mess," Oliver said as he studied the Stetsons. "I hope your family isn't in danger."

Lee caught Amanda's gaze. "Don't worry about us. We know how to watch our backs."

* * *

**Vacation Condo – August 21 – Pre-dawn**

Amanda pulled a warm sweater over her head as she hurried into the kitchen. "Is everything packed, sweetheart?"

"You bet - lock, stock and barrel." Lee stifled a yawn and shuffled across the linoleum floor in his bare feet. "The boys and I loaded everything last night, except for the Wii and their ratty old Monopoly game. Jamie cleaned out all my cash by midnight and said it was time for the old man to go to bed."

"Old man?"

"Those are his words, not mine." Lee leaned in and brushed a kiss across his wife's lips.

Amanda rested her head on his shoulder and relaxed as he wrapped her in a tight embrace and rocked her back and forth. "I wish our trip had turned out differently," she whispered into the hollow of his neck. "Now we're leaving two days early without the euphoria that usually accompanies a visit to paradise."

He pulled back in alarm. "Amanda, I was afraid paradise was your fate yesterday. I'm relieved to be abandoning this place."

She had the grace to look chagrin. "At least the worst appears to be over. Once we're back at the Agency, we'll be in a better position to help Jean, Nate, and Dr. Jessup."

"Don't count on cooperation from the big boys," Lee said as he rested his clasped hands on the small of her back. "Knowing the reputation of our esteemed Agency director, I'm afraid Stevenson may drop our case faster than a live hand grenade. He won't see the natural gas boom as a threat to national security."

She sighed with exasperation. "Not even when it means muzzling climate scientists?"

"Nope, Stevenson won't want to offend the fossil fuel industry. Nor will he want to upset the politicians who control the Agency purse strings. I suspect Congressman Penneywell's request for Agency help will lose out to political expediency."

"Too many powerful old men refuse to see a problem until it blows up in their faces," Amanda mumbled as she abandoned the discussion and turned away.

"Hey, come back here," he said, hoping to end the vacation on a happier note. "How would you like to take in the view from Cadillac Mountain before we leave? It's on our way out of town. We can watch the sunrise, stop for a late brunch, and still make it home before midnight."

His words stopped Amanda in her tracks. Whirling around, she caught his hand. "Greeting a new day from the mountaintop would certainly make our trip memorable."

"Then let's do it." Sipping his coffee, Lee knocked on doors as he headed for the living room. "Roll out, people, or we'll miss the sunrise on Cadillac Mountain."

Phillip appeared first, carrying his sleeping daughter, still dressed in her footie pajamas. Heather came next, pulling an L.L. Bean bag over her shoulder and fitting a baseball cap over her tangled blonde curls. "We'll dress Mandy in the car when she finally wakes up."

Jamie shuffled from his bedroom and dropped to the floor, crawling on his knees in search of something among the Monopoly money still scattered on the carpet. "Hey, has anyone seen my glasses?"

"Here, honey," Lisa said as she handed him the object of his search. "You left them in the bathroom again." Running a hairbrush through her long auburn locks, she blew her husband a kiss.

Lee pulled the blanket off the sleeper sofa, uncovering Matt and Robby in the process. "Rise and shine, boys, or we'll be late."

"Ah, Dad," they groaned, pulling their favorite squishy pillows over their heads. Lee yanked the remaining bedding away from his sons and tugged at their feet. "Move it, guys." Then tossing them their blue jeans and sweatshirts, he pointed toward the master bedroom. "You may get dressed in there."

Jenny turned the swivel rocker toward the commotion. A petulant scowl clouded her usual smiling face. "Do we have to drive up the mountain? I just want to head straight home."

Lee reached over and stroked a finger along his daughter's cheek. "What's wrong with our Miss Sunshine?"

"She misses her new boyfriend," Matt informed in his teasing voice. "I think she wants to attend Boston University next year, so they can be together."

"Over my dead body," Lee murmured as he glared at his first born.

Jenny ignored them both and marched into the bathroom, slamming the door in the process.

"Five minutes, everyone." Amanda hurried toward the front door, carrying a box filled with water bottles, juice boxes, a baggie of Fruit Loops, and a carton of fiber bars. "Heather would you grab the bag of oranges? I don't want anyone to go without breakfast."

Phillip, Jamie, and Lee shared a knowing look. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day," they yelled in unison.

In a flurry of activity, everyone grabbed for jackets and sneakers as they headed out the door. Then piling into two mini vans and Jamie's Jeep, the Stetson-King family began their homeward journey.

* * *

**Cadillac Mountain**

Round and round, the caravan climbed the three and half mile narrow road to the top of Cadillac Mountain. Reaching the summit, the whole family prepared to greet the dawning of a new day.

"We''re on the tallest mountain on the East Coast," Lee said as they parked in the lot and exited the van. "From October to March, the rising sun reaches the slopes of Cadillac Mountain before any other place in the United States. Native people, who lived here for thousands of years, called themselves Wabanaki, meaning 'People of the Dawn'."

"Hey, Dad, you're pretty smart for so early in the morning." Matt poked an elbow into his father's ribs, while Lee yanked his son's baseball cap down over his eyes.

The other twin mocked his brother. "Dad reads, unlike someone in our family who never cracks a book." Rob jumped behind his father to dodge his brother's retaliatory shove.

"Boys, be respectful," Amanda said, but the twins continued to race around each other like a couple of wild mustangs.

"Mom and Dad, make them behave," Jenny demanded as she reluctantly traipsed alongside her family. Without a word, Amanda reached out and wrapped an arm around her daughter's slim waist.

Lee ignored Jenny's comment, but collared the boys with his strong hands and steered them toward the mountaintop. "Eyes open and mouths shut," he said. "You won't want to miss the spectacular moment."

Joining others who braved the cold and biting wind, the Stetson-King family moved in one accord onto the winding pathway. In silence, they watched the soft hues of dawn gild the water's edge as the bright orange ball peeked over the shimmering sea of glass. Soon the sun rose above the horizon, painting the sky with streaks of yellow, orange, and pink.

Lee wrapped a protective arm around Amanda's shoulders and hugged her close while they enjoyed the breathtaking view of Bar Harbor, the Porcupine Islands, and Frenchman's Bay. Even the Stetson teens seemed in awe of nature as they huddled against their parents, in a perfect moment of harmony.

When the sun climbed higher in the sky, they strolled along the summit pathway. Together they noted the tiny plants that survived the harsh elements to grow among the joints of granite and on the leeward side of rocks. All too soon, more tourists crowded the pathway, so it was time for the family to move along and make their way down the mountain.

"I'm riding with Jamie and Lisa," Jenny announced as she walked away before her parents could discuss the arrangement.

"Fine," Lee grumbled, obviously still smarting from Jenny's insufferable attitude. "Why did the rabble-rouser, Nate, have to show up and mess with our daughter's sweet disposition?"

"You're priceless," Amanda said with a grin. "I always knew the day would come when Lee Stetson, the consummate rule breaker, would have to face a young man cut from a similar cloth. You had this coming, sweetheart."

"Touché," he said with a growl. "I can't say you didn't warn me."

Phillip hurried over and interrupted their exchange. "Mom, are you riding with us?"

"A-man-da," Lee complained, his patience reaching its final limit. "Do I have the Bubonic Plague or something? Why aren't you sticking with me?"

"Sweetheart," she said in her best placating tone. "Phillip would like me to ride with them. Heather has a migraine, so they've nominated me to sit next to Mandy and keep her calm."

"You mean more grandma duty, huh?" Lee hesitated a second before nodding in agreement. Clearly he preferred to have his wife by his side. "Okay," he finally said with a sigh. "The boys and I will meet you at the restaurant for brunch."

"I'm sorry for the separation, sweetheart, but we'll reunite in about two hours." Amanda placed her hands on Lee's chest and leaned in to give him a quick kiss. Then turning to the twins, she pulled them in for a hug they barely tolerated. "Guys, listen to your dad and wear your seat belts."

Absently nodding at the unsolicited advice, Matt and Robby raced for the passenger side door. "Shot gun," they cried at the same time. Finishing in a tie, both boys argued over the coveted spot until push came to shove.

Amanda blew out a breath as she watched Lee break up the scuffle. His solution was simple. No one would ride shot gun. Quickly he ushered the kids to the middle seats and took his own place behind the wheel. Before Phillip could get Mandy situated in the car seat, Lee was backing his vehicle out of his parking space. Jamie and Lisa soon followed him in the Jeep. Then the King van brought up the rear.

"Where's Poppy?" Mandy asked, in a decidedly grating whine. Not waiting for an answer, she dipped a chubby hand into the bag of Fruit Loops.

Phillip put the van in low gear as he followed the twists and turns down the mountain. "No use picking up any steam on the vertical roadway."

"Your Dad is going too fast." Heather pointed to the Stetson vehicle before it disappeared around another curve.

Amanda leaned forward in her seat, trying to watch the action through the front windshield. Several seconds went by before Lee's van was visible again - just beyond a knoll of shrub pines further down the mountain. "Oh my gosh, he's really flying."

She felt her heart leap to her throat when she remembered their wedding cruise case. Scarecrow and Mrs. King nearly met their end as their car, minus brakes, sped down the winding San Angelo mountain road. She hoped to God, that Lee wouldn't have to tell the boys to jump, like he told her decades ago.

"Mom," Phillip whispered, taking his eyes off the road long enough to catch her eye. "Do you think Lee's in trouble?"

"I hope not, sweetheart."

"Phil-lip," Heather screamed, "stop."

Just in time, he slammed on the brakes, nearly smashing into Jamie's Jeep in the process. "What the devil?"

All around them, cars came to a screeching halt. Further down the road, smoke rose from a hillside.

Amanda felt paralyzed as Jamie jumped from the Jeep and ran back to their vehicle. Suspended in a brief moment of denial, her mind grasped at hope, not yet betrayed. "No," she told herself, rejecting the truth she already knew in her heart. "Lee and the twins are safe."

"What's happened?" Phillip asked, in a voice raspy with alarm.

Next to her, Mandy began to cry, but Amanda couldn't summon the strength to comfort the child.

Jamie's face was a mask of fear. "There's been an accident. I'm afraid it involves Lee and the boys."

"Oh, God, please. . . ." Amanda pushed against her crippling terror and felt the adrenaline kick in. "Let's go."

"Mom," Phillip said, placing on arm on her sleeve. "The road is blocked with cars. How are we going to reach them?"

"On foot." Unfastening her seatbelt, she yanked on the sliding door and jumped from the van. As she rounded Jamie's vehicle, Jenny got out, already in tears. "Stay in the car," Amanda warned in a shrill voice that sounded alien to her ears.

Instantly Lisa grabbed the distraught Jenny, and Amanda broke into a run, barely conscience of Phillip and Jamie sprinting after her. With the wind at their backs, she felt totally out-of-control as the momentum carried her down the mountainside.

Behind her, the boys' feet pounded the black top, finally catching her on the first turn. Together they weaved their way between cars, barely holding themselves in check as they descended the steep grade. Partway down, they veered off the road to take a short cut across woodsy terrain.

Once again in the clear, they moved at breakneck speed, until they reached the granite overlook and spied Lee's vehicle. Coming to a halt, they were momentarily stunned by the horrific sight. "Oh, Christ," Phillip said, summing up their shared sentiment.

The front passenger side was smashed against a huge boulder, and the whole van teetered precariously by the edge of the cliff. With just a few inches to spare, it wouldn't take much to send the Stetson vehicle plunging toward the lake at the bottom of the mountain.

Amanda and her sons had no time to talk as they picked their way over rocks and brush and continued their descent. When they arrived at another clearing, the three of them saw the "Good Samaritans" surrounding the accident site. The engine fire was already extinguished and the boys had been removed from the van.

Numb with fear, Amanda finally reached the scene. There was no sign of Lee, but Matty and Robby lay moaning on the ground as others administered first aid to their bleeding bodies. Bending over the twins, she felt weak with relief as their eyes caught hers.

"Ma'am," their caregiver said, "We've called for ambulances."

"Thank you." Cautiously she reached out both hands, touching her boys where they appeared the least hurt.

Robby's voice shook as he tried to talk. "We've lost Dad," he managed to say before tears choked his words.

"Mom, Mom," Matthew gasped, his face contorted with fright and pain. "Dad was thrown from the van."

"We'll find him," she said, comforting the boys with false bravado. Fearing the worst, Amanda felt her throat convulse with terror.

Jamie came to stand beside her and bent down to reassure his brothers. Then wrapping an arm around his mother's waist, he pulled her to her feet. "The rangers have found Lee."

"Fellas," she said to her injured boys. "I'll be right back. I need to check on your dad." Pulling her eyes from their misery, she leaned into her grown son.

"Mom," Jamie whispered, "Lee's on the other side of the van. The rescuers have attached him to a board and are lifting him out of the brush now."

She looked up at her son, despair and hope competing for control of her heart. "He's alive?"

"Yes, but he's unconscious." Jamie grasped her elbow and led her to the crumpled vehicle where Lee lay beside it, unseeing and unaware. Two rangers diligently administered first aid.

Phillip tried to block her view. "Mom, it's pretty bad."

Amanda sidestepped around him, reeling at the sight. "Oh, Lee," she cried as her knees buckled. Phillip and Jamie surrounded their mother and eased her to the ground.

Trembling, she gently took her husband's limp hand. Then with a painful sigh, she let her eyes catalog the visible injuries. No wonder Phillip wanted to protect her. Lee looked terrible. Battered and bleeding, his head had obviously taken the brunt of the impact.

Choking on her tears, Amanda placed her mouth next to his left ear. "Don't give up, sweetheart, not for a second. I promise we're not giving up on you."

* * *

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6 – Maine Medical Center – Portland, Maine - August 22**

In a haze of grief and fatigue, Amanda's sole focus was the relentless bleep and whir of monitors as they played like a drumroll death march. She felt frozen in time, unable to move for fear if she turned away, Lee's fragile hold on life would be snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

All Amanda could do was sit next to his hospital bed and clutch his limp hand as she took comfort from the weak pulse that tapped against her thumb. Miraculously, he'd made it through endless hours of brain surgery. Now he lay motionless in the intensive care unit, his body tethered to a plethora of tubes for breathing, intravenous fluids, and blood. Still in a coma, his battered head was wrapped in bandages, and his bruised and swollen face bore only the slightest resemblance to the handsome Lee Stetson.

"Lee, I'm here for you, and we're going to get through this together, pal." Searching his expressionless face, Amanda longed for a flash of hazel eyes and a wide dimpled grin. By sheer grit, she willed him to be whole and strong again - to rise from the bed and wrap his arms around her and crush her to his chest. She'd already pleaded with her husband, interrogated the doctors, and bargained with God. Now she had to stand firm in her faith, allow the doctors to use their gifts of healing, and trust Lee to win the fight of his life.

A soft tap on the door was a welcome reprieve from the warring thoughts of hope and despair. "You have a visitor," the nurse said so quietly that Amanda thought the words came in a dream. Impassively she watched a shadow darken the doorway.

"Darling!" The small figure entered the dark room like an angel from another realm.

"Mother?" In three steps, Amanda was wrapped in a safe embrace, clutched tightly in loving arms, just as she'd been since infancy. Rocked back and forth by the petit frame, her mother's presence filled the room. Through tears, Amanda found her voice. "It's touch and go. Even if Lee makes it through the night, the doctors probably won't know his prognosis for days . . . or longer."

Stepping back from the embrace, Dotty captured her daughter's gaze. "He'll be fine, darling. Lee Stetson is a fighter, and he loves you too much to give up on life." Then braving the obstacle course of tubes and wires, she laid a delicate hand on Lee's shoulder and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Hurry back to us, son," she said, her own eyes filled with tears.

Amanda felt weak with relief. She hadn't wanted her aging parent to face yet another hospital vigil, but Dotty West was not to be deterred. "Thank you for coming; I couldn't bear Lee's crisis without you."

"And I couldn't allow my only child to sit alone in an intensive care unit." Dotty took Amanda's arm and led her toward the door. "Darling, you look exhausted and famished. Let's get a bite to eat. You can't help your husband if you pass out at the foot of his bed."

"You're right, Mother. Let's take a break." Still in a fog of anguish, Amanda threw one more glance in Lee's direction as she exited the room. Holding her emotions in check while she passed the Agency guard, she began to tremble uncontrollably when safely hidden behind the elevator doors. With her mother here, she could finally let down the protective shield and succumb to the horror of the last two days. Now she felt the full force of the accident and the devastating impact upon all her loved ones.

In an instant the family had been torn asunder. While Lee was airlifted to Maine Medical Center, Matty and Robby had been admitted overnight to Mount Desert Island Hospital. She'd barely had time to comfort them before she'd flown with her husband to Portland, Maine. Faced with the terrible choice, she'd left her adult sons to bear the full brunt of their younger siblings' pain and misery. With their father in a coma and their mother absent, Jenny, Matty and Robby most certainly felt like orphans.

Dotty kept a secure arm around her daughter's waist as they exited the elevator and walked down the long hallway, now choked with rushing hospital personnel. "Hold on, darling, I have another surprise for you." Walking into the cafeteria, Amanda caught sight of a blonde and brunette sitting at a table, their heads bent toward each other in conversation. "Oh my gosh."

"Mom," Jenny shouted, as she ran to embrace her mother and grandmother. "I just couldn't stay away, so Aunt Francine met Jamie's Jeep in Massachusetts, and she drove me here to be with you and Dad."

"I flew into Logan Airport and rented a car," Francine said as she stepped forward to hold Amanda. The senior agent was obviously shaken as she briefly yielded to her personal anguish. "I'm so sorry," she whispered in a raspy voice. Then squaring her shoulders, she snapped back into the role of consummate professional. "The NEST team has kept me informed."

Amanda nodded, overwhelmed by the present show of support that had been sorely lacking during the initial harrowing hours of uncertainty. "I appreciate all the Agency is doing to help Lee."

Jenny's exuberance was soon overshadowed by her own anxiety. "When may I see Dad? Is he awake? Does he remember the accident?"

"Daddy's in ICU, and no, he's not awake yet." Amanda caught her mother's gaze, a common consensus passing between them. There was no way Jennifer was prepared to visit her critically injured father in his present state. Lee's situation was so much worse than that of Amanda's own father's condition when he died just short of her twentieth birthday. The memory shook her to the core. Carl West had also been unconscious when she'd stood by his bedside for a final good-bye, but at least his dear face had been recognizable. Lee's was not. "Sweetheart, let's wait and see what happens in the next day or two. Right now, I'm only allowed very limited visitation. Dad needs all his strength to heal."

"Oh," Jenny said when the dire truth hit home.

Dotty swept an arm around her hurting grandchild and nudged her toward the cafeteria line. "Let's get soup and salad for everyone while your mother and Aunt Francine save us a table."

The two colleagues silently seated themselves, both seemingly afraid to broach the subject of Lee's grave condition. Finally Francine took charge. "While no one should ever underestimate Lee Stetson's inner strength, NEST isn't very hopeful . . . maybe Jenny should have a chance to see her father."

Amanda vehemently shook her head. "I understand the need, Francine, but I have to think positively and protect Jenny from horrors she's not equipped to see. Honestly, I'm not equipped for this either, but at least I've trained my emotions to endure all kinds of tragedy – something my work at the Agency provides in alarming frequency." Amanda dabbed at unshed tears as she dug deep, conjuring up the last thread of hope that lay buried beneath fear and doubt. "I have to believe Lee will turn a corner soon."

For a minuscule moment, Francine's facade crumbled as she reached across the table to squeeze Amanda's hand. "I'm betting on Lee, too, and, of course, you know what's best for Jenny. I'll take my cues from you."

"Thank you." Briefly, Amanda hung her head, desperate to set grief aside and change the focus. "Just what did cause my husband's accident?"

Francine relaxed into Agent mode, obviously more comfortable in her official position. "It was no accident. Someone tampered with Lee's brakes. Maybe the perpetrator targeted both you and Lee. After all, you normally ride with your husband, and you nearly died in the fire on the previous day."

"Francine, no one knew Jamie, Lisa, Jenny, and I were going to the museum. Not even Lee. It was a split second decision."

"Okay, let's assume the fire was intended for Dr. Jessup and your environmentalist friend. Somehow, the would-be killer may believe you're tangled up with a climate scientist and his high profile mouthpiece, Jean Kearsley. Honestly, the woman seems to have a penchant for being stalked by murderers, but I can't imagine how she ensnared you in her troubles again." Francine raised a perfectly sculpted brow in question. "Is it my imagination or am I missing a vital piece of information?"

"Yes, and that would be my children."

"Oh, really?"

Amanda felt a shudder course through her body as her mind replayed the precipitating event. "It was all very innocent, Francine. Without our knowledge, Jenny joined a social network site, and she put up some pictures of 'Mothers for a Safe Environment.' Then Matty and Robby figured out her password and added a revealing profile of our family. Unfortunately they also announced our vacation destination."

"I should have guessed." Francine pressed her lips together, looking every bit the part of 'scolder-in-chief'. "Honestly, Amanda, your kids may as well play in the Capitol Beltway traffic. Don't they realize the dangers of the internet?"

"They certainly do," Amanda defended, "but temptation can get the better of them. Lee and I have made Jenny take down the revealing information."

"Apparently, too little, too late," Francine said, punctuating the words with her infamous pointed look.

Amanda cringed at her colleague reprimands. The haughty Ms. Desmond was certainly free with her accusations, but then she always was good at throwing out barbs to agents who dared to have children. Given her dangerous profession, Francine and Jonathan had decided from the start that babies would be wrong for them. However, on a day like today, Amanda couldn't help but concur with her prickly colleague. In light of the Stetson family tragedy, the unsolicited wisdom of Agent Desmond had indisputable merit.

Despite the friction, Francine managed to soften her demeanor. "Amanda, I'm afraid you and Lee are being stalked. Someone has associated you with Kearsley and Jessup and decided you deserve the same fate they have in store for the environmental alarmists. Under the circumstances, the Agency will be providing protection for your whole family. At least for now, we need to be vigilant in case your children are targeted, too."

"Thank you, Francine, but no one is staying at our Maryland home right now. Phillip and Heather are taking care of Matty and Robby, and our neighbors are caring for the animals."

Rising from her chair, Francine crouched by her colleague. "Don't you worry," she said as she gripped Amanda's hand. "I'm headed back to the Agency tonight to set every precaution in motion. We'll keep your empty house under surveillance, and wherever your family goes, an agent will be watching."

* * *

**Maine Medical Center – August 25 **

On the third day after surgery, Lee's vital signs improved and his color was better. Amanda felt her hope surge when her husband's eyes fluttered open as she walked across the room.

"Is he awake," she asked the nurse who hovered near the bed.

"No, not yet, but it's a sign that he's making progress. Mr. Stetson is still unconscious and unaware of his surroundings."

"Well, at least he's improving." Even the reflex response boosted Amanda's fragile hold on optimism. It was time to bring her seventeen-year-old daughter in to see her father.

Words of warning still left the girl ill-prepared, but she bravely entered the room and kept her fragile composure in check. Hesitantly taking a seat by his bedside, Jenny tentatively placed graceful fingers above the I.V. in Lee's hand. Stroking his forearm, she seemed to catalog his injuries as she held back the tears swimming in her eyes.

Amanda braced her hip on the bed and gently laid a hand on her husband's knee that lay encased in covers. "Good morning, sweetheart. Jenny and I are both here to see you today." Then motioning to her daughter, she urged her to speak. "Talk to Dad, sweetie. At some level, he can hear us."

The teen swallowed hard. "Daddy, I love you, and I'm really sorry about your car crash. I never should have posted anything on the internet."

"Jennifer," Amanda said as she gripped her daughter's hand. "Your father would never blame you for the accident, and when he wakes up, he'll tell you so."

Jenny nodded, anxiously biting her nails in the same comforting habit passed from mother to daughter. "The boys are worried about you, too," she said, her voice quaking with emotion. "We hope you'll wake-up soon. Gosh, Matty even said he'd be thrilled to have you yell at him again."

Amanda smiled at her daughter's comment. "Lee, the twins are doing fine, but they miss you very much." Squeezing her husband's knee, Amanda felt it flinch. Then his whole leg jerked. Moving her eyes to Lee's face, she saw a grimace take shape. "Oh my gosh, Daddy's showing signs of awareness. Jen, run and tell the nurse."

Jumping to her feet, Amanda gently took his hand and pressed her lips against Lee's ear. "Sweetheart, respond to me. Blink your eyes or squeeze my fingers." Long moments passed before she felt a slight twinge push against her palm. "Oh, Lee, come on, big fella; come back to us."

With a thud, the door flew open and the NEST team moved in. "Give us some time to examine him," Dr. Scardelli said in a rush. "We'll, fill you in soon."

Somehow Amanda found the strength to leave the room and join her mother and daughter. Unfortunately, the doctor's version of "soon" seemed like an eternity. Amanda, Dotty, and Jenny paced the corridor in the timeless ritual played out every day by the families of critically ill patients.

Dotty grew more perturbed by the minute. "Honestly, we're as clueless as three blind mice. We have to do something."

Finally Amanda could no longer take the suspense. "Go sit down, both of you. I'm going in there alone. Just let them try to throw me out."

"Good for you, darling," Dotty said. "Don't let the medical staff push you around."

Hurrying down the hallway, Amanda heard the ruckus before she saw it. "Good Lord, what's happening?" she asked, charging through the door. Lee was emerging from his coma as only he could do - angry and disoriented as a trapped animal. Thrashing about in the bed, he'd already dislodged his covers and most of his attachments.

The head nurse stopped Amanda at the door. "Honey, you shouldn't be in here. Mr. Stetson isn't going to come out of his coma like the gentle blooming of a rose."

Dr. Scardelli beckoned to Amanda. "Talk to him, Mrs. Stetson. He's agitated, but functioning with some awareness."

Amanda squeezed in between the attendants. "Lee, I'm here. Just relax, sweetheart. The doctors want to help you."

Lee quieted at the sound of her voice, holding still just enough for the doctor to administer a drug that quickly calmed him.

While the nurses reattached his tubes and wires, Dr. Scardelli took Amanda's arm and guided her to hallway. Still boyish- looking at sixty, the man's smile could calm even the most distraught family members. "I don't want you to be discouraged, Mrs. Stetson. You husband has turned a corner, but he's not completely aware yet. Recovery from a coma usually occurs gradually. Like many comatose patients, Lee partially awoke in a state of confusion. He probably doesn't know where he is or how he got here."

Amanda bit her lip, resigning herself to more endless waiting. Needless to say, miracles didn't always come in one grand swoop. "So, there's hope, doctor?"

"Yes," he said smiling. "There's definitely hope."

* * *

**Maine Medical Center - August 29**

Lee continued his slow but steady progress toward consciousness. By the seventh day after surgery, he managed to have a few short wakeful periods every day. Still perplexed and mostly mute, he seemed indifferent to those around him – everyone that is, but Amanda. His eyes followed her every move, and he relaxed whenever she touched him.

However, Lee's complete apathy toward the others hit Jenny very hard, particularly since he turned his head away whenever she came near. Even Dotty was shut out when she tried to fuss with his covers or engage him in conversation. He simply acted like Jenny and Dotty didn't exist.

Finally, everyone agreed Phillip should come to pick up his grandmother and sister. School was about to start for Jenny and the twins, and Lee's doctors were making plans to transfer him to Galilee General Hospital in Virginia.

To everyone's surprise, Phillip didn't come alone. Hurrying ahead of their oldest brother, Matthew and Robert bounded into the room with smiles as wide as the Mississippi River. "Hi, Mom and Dad," they called, in their youthful high pitched voices. Then they stopped short, obviously shocked by the changes in their father.

Lee flinched with alarm as Amanda moved from his side, just in time to intercept the boys. "Fellas," she cried, thrilled and startled at the same time. Quickly she embraced them and then inspected their strong young bodies.

"You seem to be healing fine."

"Uh, huh," they squeaked in tandem, their eyes glued to the stranger in the hospital bed.

Amanda placed her arms around them. "Boys, Dad is making progress, but he's still confused. Remember to go slow with him."

The twins exchanged doubtful looks with each other before taking tentative steps toward Lee. "Hey," Matt said, "do you remember us?"

Lee recoiled, his eyes darting toward Amanda. She quickly came to his aid. "Sweetheart, Matty and Robby are here to see you. I think each boy has grown an inch in the last few weeks."

Robert clutched the bedrail at the side of the bed. "Dad, we hope you're coming home soon. We've really missed you."

Agitated, Lee's left arm flailed. His mouth moved in desperation as he struggled to speak. "No. . . go away," he yelled. "I don't know you."

Frightened by their father's outburst, the boys stepped back, horror evident on their young faces. Hearing the commotion, Philip ran from the hallway with Jenny and Dotty closing in around him. "Oh, jeez," he said, when he saw Lee's panic and his brothers' retreat. "God, he's much worse off than I ever imagined."

Dotty rushed to Amanda's side. "Darling, what happened?"

"Mother," she whispered. "Lee is terrified of his own children."

* * *

**One Month later: Galilee General Hospital - September 29, 2008 **

Amanda Stetson clutched her mother's hand as the two women followed the medical team into the conference room at Galilee General Hospital. Phillip and Jamie were close on their heels, offering unwavering support for their mother and grandmother.

Taking her seat around the polished mahogany table, Amanda exchanged sympathetic looks with Francine, who'd been nothing less than a loyal friend during the crisis. Reassured by the Agency presence, Amanda sighed quietly and turned her attention to the medical doctor who took charge of the briefing.

"Thank you for coming," Dr. Patterson said kindly as his eyes swept around the gathering. It's been a difficult road for everyone during Mr. Stetson's journey toward recovery. However, we've finally reached the fork in the road and feel the time has come to plan a new direction. In consultation with Lee's neurosurgeon and psychiatrist, we've concluded that it would be most beneficial to transfer him from Galilee General to a new location."

Dr. Forester, the neurosurgeon, nodded his head in agreement. "Although Mr. Stetson is progressing to our satisfaction, he needs continued therapy to improve his walking as well as therapy for his post traumatic amnesia. Therefore we feel Lee can benefit from vigorous rehabilitation, in a more restful environment."

Amanda's hands fidgeted nervously in her lap. "By restful environment, I hope you mean Lee's home," she said, leaving no doubt to her preference. "I don't want more round-the-clock, institutional care for my husband. He needs to recover in the loving presence of his family. Maybe then he can regain his memories and realize his place in our lives. Lee has a supportive family, willing and able to take him to rehabilitation on a daily basis."

Francine reached across the table and took Amanda's hand. "Let's hear the doctors out. They're the experts, after all."

"Of course," Amanda said, reminding herself to remain calm during the meeting. For weeks, she'd been Lee's fiercest advocate, often hammering the medical staff with a barrage of questions, concerns, and opinions.

Dr. Hollingsworth, Lee's psychiatrist, cleared his throat, waiting to catch Amanda's eye. "Your husband's case is particularly difficult. While he remembers his colleagues and his life as an intelligence operative, Lee doesn't remember his present family."

"But," Amanda interrupted in a rush, "Lee remembers working with me, and he seems to trust me."

"All very good signs," the doctor replied, in his placating tone. "However, Mr. Stetson has been in a confused and agitated state since he awoke from the coma. In my professional opinion, your husband has blocked out a large part of his life for emotional reasons. In light of his history of early parental loss, and the subsequent loss of colleagues in the line of duty, Lee may be struggling with his old fear of abandonment."

"Excuse me, sir." Amanda again barged into the conversation. "If Lee is feeling abandoned, then he needs his family more than ever."

Dr. Hollingsworth nodded in understanding. "Yes, that's a valid point, Mrs. Stetson. However, in his present circumstances, the fear seems to be twofold. Lee not only fears abandonment by his loved ones, he also fears he may abandon or fail those who mean the most to him. Consequently, in his present state, he is overwhelmed by the very presence of his family."

Dotty moved to the edge of her seat, impatient to enter the fray. "Are you married, doctor?"

The physician's bushy eyebrows rose in surprise. "Yes, ma'am, I am," he answered slowly.

The indomitable Dorothea West clicked her red nails against the table as she prepared her tirade. "Then, sir, you must know that Lee needs to be in the midst of his family. After all, he's happily married to my daughter. He dearly loves his children." And then, as an afterthought, Dotty added, "he even loves his mother-in-law."

The doctor had the good sense to meet her hard gaze with a smile. "Yes, Mrs. West, and if my wife was sitting here, she'd readily concur with you."

"There, you see," Dotty said with relief. "Mothers always know best."

"However, Mrs. West," he continued, "each case is unique. On the day of the accident, Mr. Stetson was driving when he lost control of his vehicle on the highest mountain on the east coast. Probably the last thing he heard, before he was knocked unconscious, were the screams of his young boys as they careened down the mountainside. Given Lee's experiences with tragedy, I believe his mind is protecting him from his worst fears. By forgetting everyone in his family, he doesn't have to worry about causing them harm."

"That's poppycock." Dotty's hand sliced the air in protest. "I'm sorry, but I feel your educated guess is pure nonsense."

"Mother, please." Amanda exchanged worried looks with her oldest sons as they placed reassuring hands on their grandmother. "Dr. Hollingsworth has some excellent insights. Maybe we should listen to the staff's suggestions."

"Thank you." Dr. Patterson again took the reins and cautiously shared knowing looks with the other doctors. "The medical team has deemed it appropriate for Mr. Stetson to be moved to a nursing and rehabilitation center that provides top notch security protection, and, of course, excellent physical and emotional therapy. Dr. Hollingsworth will visit him and continue to provide psychiatric care. Also, in light of Lee's distressed state of mind, we feel that Mrs. Stetson should be his personal nursing assistant. He has grown accustom to her presence, even though he's unable to recognize her as his wife."

Amanda sat stunned. "You mean you want me to masquerade as the Agency's girl Friday and continue to hide the truth that Lee is married and has children?"

Dr. Patterson had the grace to look sympathetic. "As long as your husband is in denial about your role in his life, it's best not to force his memories by inserting family into the mix. For now, Lee needs some space to come to terms with his serious injuries and his crippling fear."

It was all Amanda could do to hold herself in check. Lee's nursing assistant indeed. After two decades of marriage, she was being relegated to the role of Bedside Bluebell, once again? Feeling like a demoted employee and a jilted lover, she addressed the doctors with icy words. "What nursing facility and rehab center did you have in mind for my husband?"

A confident smile spread across Dr. Patterson's face. "We want Mr. Stetson to be moved to Birchwood."

Amanda and Francine looked at each other in shock. "Birchwood," they said in unison. Visions of wide open grounds, night pirates, and a Mickey Mouse security team flashed before Amanda's eyes. "You can't mean the Agency's retirement community."

"Yes, ma'am, we do," the doctor reiterated. "We want your husband transferred to the skilled care nursing unit next week." Dr. Patterson folded his file and rose from his seat, essentially dismissing the group. "Birchwood has become an excellent rehab facility in recent years," he added as he headed for the door. "In all probability, Lee will feel lucky to be there."

* * *

**TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: Birchwood – Tuesday Morning, October 7 **

Amanda steered her Mercury Mountaineer through the winding driveway of the retirement community. Rambling cottages and tall shade trees graced the manicured lawns. Friendly residents waved in greeting as they rolled along the wide pathways in motorized carts.

"Birchwood," a sign stated with simple dignity. Amanda sighed softly. Had decades really passed since she first laid eyes on the quiet senior residence? She never could have guessed all those years ago that many of the Agency's employees retired to the facility. What had Lee said back in the old days of 1986? "It's the future, Amanda, if we're lucky."

Pulling into a parking place, she turned off the engine and sat quietly. Memories came flooding back. Lee had been so excited the first time he brought her here to meet his octogenarian friends - Lois and Glynnis Mendleson, and Rupert Simpson, the resident lothario. "Aunts" and "Uncle," they'd called themselves. It was obvious by the sparkle in Lee's eyes, that the seniors had given the young agent the sense of family he'd so desperately needed.

"Now if only Lee could remember his real family," Amanda said with a deep pang of longing. She shook her head at the unfathomable situation. Lee was a Birchwood resident in the nursing care unit. At fifty-eight years of age, he was mostly confined to a hospital bed. His gait had slowed to a wobbly snail's pace, and his memory still had chasms as deep as the Grand Canyon.

Even more astounding, Lee's personality had changed considerably. As he'd gradually emerged from the coma, it was the grumpy Scarecrow, rather than the loving Lee Stetson, who controlled his behavior. While initially clinging to Amanda when he'd first regained consciousness, he now seemed to be holding her at arm's length.

As the irritable patient wound down his stay at Galilee General Hospital, he treated her with the same aloofness Scarecrow exhibited when she was little more than a civilian employee at the Agency. When Lee complained about her "constant mothering," Amanda decided to give him some space. In truth, they both needed a breather from her daily visits, so she spent the last several days at home. While she was pleased to focus attention on her mother and children, the downtime only served to magnify her husband's absence from her life.

Amanda dabbed at a lone tear that ran down her cheek, and then she straightened her shoulders. She wasn't going to cry, not again. For days after the horrific car crash, her tears had flooded her pillow, but she was beyond that now. In the last six weeks, she'd been forced to move through the stages of grief at lightning speed.

Looking down at her crisp blue uniform, Amanda prepared to appease the most difficult patient she'd ever encountered as a Bedside Bluebell. She'd dug the old garment out of mothballs for one more round with the man known as "every nurse's nightmare."

Quickly getting out of the car, she moved deliberately toward the skilled care facility. Like a robot, she trudged along the sidewalk, automatically nodding to those who passed by. While her face may be engaged in smiling pleasantly, her mind was dreading her new assignment with Lee.

Opening the door to the foyer, she heard a familiar voice call her name. "Mrs. King." Startled, Amanda whirled around, trying to pinpoint the intrusion. Seeing the "acting chief of field section," she hurried to her colleague. "Oh, I'm sorry; my mind was somewhere else."

"So I noticed." Francine placed a hand on Amanda's arm and guided her toward the corner of the lounge. "I'm sorry I can't use your married name. For now, the staff needs to think of you as Mrs. King, Lee's friend and colleague."

"I know," Amanda said wearily, feeling the secret weigh like a rock upon her heart. "I'm determined to do whatever it takes to help Lee."

"How are you holding up?"

"Better, I think." Amanda waved her hand with a gesture of indifference, determined to keep a stiff upper lip in front of her colleague. While they'd gotten passed their old rivalry and shared a friendship of sorts, Francine never did quite see the attraction between Scarecrow and Mrs. King. Accepted it, yes, but understood it, never.

"So, here we are again in yet another institutional lounge," Francine said as she seated herself on a Windsor chair.

Easing her slight frame to the sofa, Amanda automatically reached for the senior living magazine displayed on the coffee table. Absently, she thumbed through the pages trying to calm her jumbled nerves. "What brings you to Birchwood so early in the day?"

"Professional courtesy," Francine said with a slight edge of superiority . "Lee was admitted to Birchwood last evening, so I wanted to dignify his arrival with an official Agency visit. And, too, I thought I could prepare him for his new aide."

"You mean me?" Amanda shoved the magazine back on the table. "Thanks a lot, Francine, but I don't think Lee has me confused with the frumpy, frazzled housewife that Billy inflected on him during the Glaser case in '83. I'm not here to bring his mail, order the pizza and run interference with the nurses."

Francine laughed and tossed her blonde head in a show of amusement. "You could have fooled me. After all, you insisted on dressing like a Bedside Bluebell."

"I thought it might comfort him," Amanda replied in her own defense. "Although Lee never admitted it, all those years ago, he was less agitated when I was by his side as an official hospital aide."

"Take it easy, Amanda. I'm with you on this one."

Amanda nodded at her friend. "I know that Francine, and I'm grateful. You've been truly supportive through the whole ordeal. However, maybe I need the comfort of an old routine as much as Lee needs something familiar."

"Fine then - Bedside Bluebell it is." Francine softened her tone as she dropped her professional air. "I'm really worried about you. I don't know how you'll keep up the charade in front of Lee. The Agency's civilian employee, Amanda King, doesn't exist anymore. I can't imagine having to pretend you're any less than the fully trained agent who assists the field section chief and heads up the training of recruits."

"Well, the doctors have been very clear. They don't want to force Lee's memories. As much as I hate to admit it, the psychiatrist may be right. I suspect, on some level, my husband has tapped into his old fear of bringing harm to those he loves."

"Yes, Amanda, we all remember Scarecrow's avoidance pattern - never get too close to people or become emotionally involved. A family was never on his radar screen until you converted him to love and marriage."

"Believe me, it was an agonizingly slow process."

"You always did love a challenge," Francine said with a laugh. Then turning serious again, she caught Amanda's eye. "How are Jenny and the twins?"

"Our children are terrified, Francine. And they're deeply hurt. Not only did their father fail to recognize them when he woke up, he became agitated by their presence. Now the kids are crushed because the doctors want them to keep their distance from Lee."

"Give it some time."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to buck the system at this point. I plan to give Lee what he expects. If my husband needs to see me as 'good ole reliable' Amanda King, then that's the role I'll play. We'll start there and see where it leads. I have to believe that someday Lee will recognize me as Agent Amanda Stetson, the love of his life and the mother of his children."

Francine rose from the chair, carefully smoothing her skirt. "Take heart, Amanda. Scarecrow finally seems more alert, and he's actually looking forward to your help today. I think, deep down, he knows you mean a lot to him."

Amanda felt a surge of hope. "Well, that's a start."

"Yes, a good one, but there's another pressing problem you may face sooner or later." Francine shook her head with obvious regret. "Lee wanted to know when Billy is coming to see him. I didn't have the heart to tell him the truth."

Amanda sighed heavily. "The doctors don't want to burden Lee with the knowledge of Billy's untimely death. I hope Lee doesn't press the issue."

"I'm afraid I have some disconcerting news for you, too." Francine straightened her shoulders, taking on her best professional pose. "I need to update you on the Kearsleys and Dr. Malcolm Jessup."

"Oh, has there been a new development?"

Francine's face gave nothing away. "The Agency is still keeping close tabs on our environmental activists, but the major threat seems to have passed. They've left the safe house and returned to their normal lives. Against our advice, Dr. Jessup and Jean have picked up their bullhorns again, in their efforts to save the planet. Nate has returned to school."

"How is that possible?" Amanda asked, clearly shocked by the news. "Did the Agency catch the person responsible for the fire and the accident?"

"Not exactly," Francine said, keeping her voice barely above a whisper. "The Bar Harbor police found the arsonist. Apparently he'd set other fires in the area, but with no motive other than being a pyro maniac. The man confessed to burning down Oliver Baxter's home. Case closed."

"What do you mean by closed?" Amanda was livid. "Francine, my husband is confined to a nursing home because someone wanted him dead. Maybe it's not connected to the fire, but my family is in danger."

"And the Agency has a team investigating Lee's vehicular crash. Your home is being watched, and Lee has security at Birchwood at all times."

"And when will the Agency lose interest? And what about all the in-between places my family goes?"

Francine had the grace to look apologetic. "I agree with you, Amanda. However, this wasn't my call. Our Agency director said the threat has passed. Byron Stevenson pulled the babysitters that followed your family around."

Amanda sighed, resenting the fact that the wheels of justice could turn so slowly. "I know we can't have agents with us indefinitely, and I'm glad Lee has security at Birchwood. Still, there's somebody out there who nearly killed my husband and sons. And, too, there was definitely someone that went after Nate Kearsley."

"A man chasing a protester through a movie theater does not necessitate Agency involvement. However, the assault on a federal agent is our concern. We've by no means relegated the crime to the cold case file."

Amanda nodded in understanding, reining in her emotions. "Thank you. I know you'll do your best."

There was an awkward silence as the two prepared to depart. Then, driven by some vague sense of sisterhood, the women moved toward each other at the same time, offering a genuine embrace.

"Wish me luck," Amanda said as she hurried toward the gift shop. "Maybe a bouquet of flowers will lift Lee's spirits."

"Good luck," Francine called. "Remember, his bark is worse than his bite."

Amanda smiled at the image. "I learned a long time ago that the tough guys aren't as tough as they make themselves out to be."

* * *

**SMK, SMK, SMK**

Amanda tiptoed into her husband's room with a vase of flowers clutched in her hands. Lee appeared to be sound asleep, so she took the moment to study his new surroundings. The unadorned room was nearly barren, save for a hospital bed, one plastic chair, and a metal nightstand. If she did nothing else this week, she would add a few touches to make him feel at home - even if the touches had to look like his old apartment.

Moving beside the bed, she studied his troubled face. While much of his flesh had healed, there was still faint evidence of facial trauma. Even in sleep, he wore a pained expression. She could barely imagine what physical agony he endured and what thoughts plagued his mind.

"Hmmm," he groaned as he turned his head toward her and opened his eyes. "Amanda, you're here."

"How are you today, sweet, ah, Lee?" She caught herself in time. "How's my patient?"

Lee squinted at the bold numbers on the wall clock and then shot her an accusatory look. "You're late. Francine said you'd be here at ten o'clock, and it's now five minutes after ten."

"Yes, well, I stopped to buy you flowers," she said, undaunted by his abruptness. "See, I placed them on the windowsill."

"Yeah, thanks," he replied without enthusiasm. Then his eyes scanned her frame from head to foot, as if she needed to pass some kind of inspection. "Your hem is crooked."

"What?"

"Your dress sags on the left. It's straight on the right, but not on the left."

"Lee, you've been experiencing visual problems. How can you possibly assess the straightness of my hem?"

"Maybe I can't make out fine detail, but your fashion faux pas is glaring. If you insist on wearing your Bedside Bluebell dress again, then please take care of the damn thing."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'll see that it's fixed tonight." Keeping her smile in place, she cautiously sat down, bracing for his next outburst. No way was she going to be baited by Lee's obnoxious behavior. He seemed to be tapped into an old conversation from their first year as co-workers. Her uniform must have triggered some past memories of Lee's long ago stay in the hospital. Maybe she'd better play along.

"Is there anything I can get for you?"

"No," he growled. "I'm incapacitated, Amanda. I don't think I'm ready for a whole cheese cake, a bottle of scotch, or a woman yet." He quickly averted his eyes when her mouth gapped open in surprise.

Recovering from his remark, Amanda tried again. "Would you like some nice pudding later? I could get some from the canteen."

"Why?" he asked, grinding out the word through gritted teeth. "You'll be the one to eat it."

Ignoring his insufferable behavior, she leaned over to pour him a drink. "How about having a sip of water?" Not waiting for an answer, she stood by the bed and pressed the straw to his dry lips.

Briefly he resisted, but as she leaned closer and placed her hand at the back of his head, he seemed to relax. For fleeting seconds she stroked the new hair, finally growing over his shaved scalp. She couldn't help but wonder if he realized his sandy brown locks had turned silver.

Belatedly his mouth opened, and he took a long drink from the straw. "Thanks."

She delicately wiped a dribble of water from his chin and then proceeded to fluff his pillow. "So, how's everyone treating you?"

"They could wake the dead around this place," he grumbled. "First they give you a pill to help you sleep, and then they wake you up to check your vital signs."

"Yes," she agreed, patting his shoulder. "There's no privacy around here, and you have to park your dignity at the front door."

"You got that right," he said with a grunt as he adjusted his hospital gown. Laying his head back against the pillow, he watched her straighten his covers. "Amanda, you look different. I can't quite put my finger on it, but there's a new maturity about you. You're not as nervous . . . ."

"Or frazzled?" Oh no, she thought, here it comes. Lee's going to tell me I look old.

His eyes searched her face. "You seem more intuitive, more confident, and more beau . . ." He stopped short and shook his head. "What I mean is, you're wearing your hair straight. Maybe that's the difference."

"And a few crows' feet," she added. "Too much sun over the summer, I guess."

"Well, you look great to me. It's been a relief to remember friendly colleagues after existing in a fog for so long. When I first emerged from the coma, I couldn't place any names with faces. At least now, I'm up to speed with you and Francine."

"Yes, your memory is improving, but you have a ways to go."

As she slipped into the bathroom to fill his water pitcher, he continued to talk. "How are the boys?"

"Boys?" Amanda rushed back into the room, spilling water as she ran. "What boys are you talking about?"

"A-man-da," he groused, "you know damn well what boys I'm talking about - Phillip and Jamie, of course." He paused in uneasy reflection, struggling with some private thought. "It's funny, but I can only picture them as little guys. I guess you're no longer telling everyone that Phillip's ten and Jamie's eight."

"Ah, no, Lee, I'm not." Her words came out in a squeak. "Now I have to say Phillip is thirty-four and Jamie is thirty-two."

"Oh my God, you have to be kidding." The note of alarm in his voice was deafening. "I'm beginning to feel like Rip Van Winkle. What did I do, fall asleep for twenty years?"

The door swung wide and a voice bellowed from the hallway. "Now Stetson, don't go badgering Mrs. King." Dr. Hollingsworth hurried into the room as if his shirttail was on fire. "She can't fill in the blanks for you. We want your memories to return in their own good time."

"Well, there's too damn much to remember." The vein in Lee's neck bulged with frustration. "I want the truth, Doc, not more of your placating smiles and medical mumbo jumbo."

"Take it easy, Mr. Stetson," the doctor said as he signaled for calm. "We're pleased with your clarity on a number of things, but for now your memories are still as fickle as the wind."

"That's it?" Lee's lip curled into a snarl. "You're just going to let me live with the unknown, while real life goes on around me." In a flash, Lee whipped the I.V. from his arm and tried to fling his legs off the bed.

Amanda was by his side in an instant, running her fingers gently along his forearm. "Lee, everything's going to be all right, but you have to trust us."

The doctor wasted no time in summoning a nurse, who quickly appeared with a syringe in her hand. "Roll over," she ordered, pulling back the bedding and exposing his right flank as he struggled to block her effort.

Amanda didn't flinch as the needle met its mark. "Everything is fine, sweetheart," she soothed, wrapping her arms tightly around him. "The doctor only wants to calm you down. I promise I'll be here when you wake up."

In seconds, he was out, so the nurse quickly reattached the I.V. Then as she scurried away, Dr. Hollingsworth waved a goodbye. "Don't get ahead of him, Amanda. In time, Lee will figure things out."

Amanda tenderly smoothed the covers over her husband, longing to crawl into bed beside him and lay her body against his long frame. Instead, she moved to the window and studied the leaves falling from the trees. Had six weeks really passed since they'd lived together as man and wife?

She let her thoughts drift to the last time they'd shared a truly intimate moment. As the happy memory took center stage, she could almost feel her husband's breath upon her skin and his hands hungrily searching for purchase upon her body. "Oh, Lee," she whispered as tears filled her eyes. "Will we ever make love again?"

* * *

**SMK, SMK, SMK,**

Amanda was as good as her word. When Lee finally awoke, she was sitting in the chair by his bedside.

"We need to talk," he said in a gravelly voice, still rough from sleep. "I think I'm figuring out more about the two of us."

Sitting up a little straighter, she smiled at the news. "What about us?"

"You called me sweetheart. Why?" The deep crease in the Stetson brow told her he meant business.

She wrung her hands nervously. Apparently the slip of the tongue hadn't been missed by her husband. "Oh, that. Well, you know me. I call everyone sweetheart."

"No you don't. You never call me sweetheart - at least not that I can remember. How did our relationship progress from bickering senior agent and civilian employee to something more amicable?"

"Lee, I'm not an albatross around your neck anymore, if that's what you mean." She rose from her chair and settled a hip on the edge of the bed. "Okay, here's the deal. You tell me what you remember, and I'll confirm or deny your perception, but I can't give you your memories."

"Okay, fair enough." He blew out a breath and tried again. "I can sense some emotional involvement between us. I suspect we ended our personal cold war."

"Yes, over time, we grew closer. In fact, we became very good friends."

"Good friends, huh?" He pondered the new revelation. "And does friendship give you license to use terms of endearment?"

She felt a blush move from her neck to her checks. "Well, on some occasions, it seems permissible to call you sweetheart."

"Yeah," he said nodding. "I can imagine Amanda King calling a good friend sweetheart." He looked at her sheepishly.

She smiled and patted his hand. "So, is there anything else you remember about us?"

"Yeah, but it's complicated." His eyes studied the ceiling as his mind searched for words. "Well, I remember our being parked in your station wagon while we were on surveillance."

"Okay, we often did that sort of thing."

He nodded in agreement. "Right, but on the occasion in question, we were having a discussion about your mother."

"You remember my mother?" Amanda asked with obvious relief.

Lee eyed her suspiciously. "Well, yes, from your kitchen window."

"Oh, you mean when you hid in my bushes." She hung her head, struggling with disappointment.

"Anyway," he continued, "when we were in your car, you talked about your mother. Apparently, she accused you of having an affair." Lee ran nervous fingers through his hair before recalling he had little hair to speak of. With a muffled harrumph, he dropped his hand to his side. "Do you remember our absurd conversation?"

"Yes," she said, suppressing a grin. "In your expert opinion, I wasn't the type to have an affair. You said my mother should know me better than that." Amanda tried to catch his eye, but he looked away.

Clearing his throat, Lee tired again. "Is it just my imagination that we were, ah, necking that night?"

Amanda stifled a laugh. "You're partly correct; we were locked in an embrace. A police car was patrolling the street, and you seemed to think it would be more natural if the officer thought we were a couple, ah, kissing."

"So, we were kissing."

"No, you only wanted it to look like we were kissing."

"That's it?"

"There's nothing more to it. The police car passed by, you let go of me, and Francine showed up in hair curlers."

"Francine? She wouldn't be caught dead in hair curlers."

"She wore them as her cover," Amanda said in a rush. "Francine was under the mistaken impression that all housewives dress in suburban frump - car coats, canvas sneakers, and hair rollers sticking out from under a head scarf. And so, on the night in question, the bad guys were expecting me to drop off a simple little cassette at the lumber yard; only you wouldn't let me make the hand-off. Therefore, Francine had to pretend to be me so she could make the drop. You said it would be a whole lot safer."

"And quieter," he added with a grin. "See, I do remember the conversation."

Amanda grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. "That's great, Lee. You remember the Raul case."

"Maybe snatches," he added, looking a bit confused.

"Lee, you've made a very good start." Looking at her watch, Amanda decided they'd both had enough for one day. "Sorry to run, but I promised the boys I'd watch their soccer game today."

"The boys still play soccer? Don't they have jobs?"

Amanda realized her mistake. "Oh, you could say it's an office team."

"And you still attend their games? Amanda, you really need to get a life."

"You know me - once a mother, always a mother." She bent over and brushed her lips against his cheek.

He grinned at the gesture. "Yeah, go. I'm sure your family needs you." Then as she crossed the room, he spoke again. "Before you leave, Amanda, may I ask one more question?"

"Sure, ask me anything, Lee."

"Do you still bake poppy seed cakes? I could sure go for a slice."

Amanda smiled at his suggestion. Maybe this was the time to convert Lee to the most important meal of the day. "If the dietician says okay, I'll bring a cake in the morning, so you can have a slice after breakfast."

Lee frowned at her suggestion. "Do I normally eat breakfast?"

Amanda offered a noncommittal shrug. Then, with a breezy wave, she exited the room and hurried down the hall. "Goodbye, sweetheart," she whispered to herself. "Maybe, we'll have a bright future, after all."

* * *

**Stetson home – October 7 – Tuesday Evening – 7:00**

Amanda put the last dinner plate in the rack and closed the door to the dishwasher. "We're all done, Mother. It's time to get off our feet."

"I'll be right behind you, dear. You go ahead and sit down."

Moving into the family room, Amanda sank into the overstuffed sofa, letting the plump cushions envelop her like a warm embrace. Reminders of Lee were everywhere, evidenced by his latest western novel laying-in-wait on the coffee table, his treadmill standing sentry in the corner, and his Remington bronze cowboy bronco buster on the shelf over the large-screen television. Closing her eyes, she could imagine their evening routine, sitting shoulder to shoulder as they enjoyed the latest NCIS episode.

With a sigh, she forced her mind back to the present. "Mother, did you hear from Phillip and Jamie today?" she called over her shoulder.

"Yes, dear, they were here before you returned home. Heaven only knows what our young men were doing. They were rummaging around in the attic while I was making dinner."

"Phillip and Jamie have been asking about their old baseball cards," Amanda said. "They think some of the collection may be valuable now. I hope they found what they were looking for."

Dotty handed her a steamy mug as she sat down. "I thought a little Chamomile tea would help you sleep tonight, darling."

"Thank you. I guess I did toss and turn a lot last night, but this evening I feel more confident about Lee's situation. Amazingly, he seemed pleased when I told him we became close friends."

"It doesn't surprise me a bit," Dotty said with a droll laugh. "Just wait until he figures out how close you two really get. That will put a huge smile on his face."

Amanda felt her cheeks grow warm. Despite the passage of fifty-six years, her mother's innuendoes could still make her blush.

"Lee does have a private room," Dotty continued. "Maybe you should ask about conjugal privileges."

"Mother!"

Dotty merely shrugged. "Well, you do want to speed up his recovery, darling."

"What are you talking about?" Jenny asked as she came up behind them.

Amanda nearly choked. "Hi, sweetie, we're just talking about Dad's improvement. He seems to be making good progress."

Jenny frowned, obviously still reeling from her father's rejection. "Does he remember he has children yet?"

"Not yet, but soon I hope. Right now, Dad thinks I'm his colleague and close friend."

"Mom, why didn't you insist that he come home? A week with our family would jar his memory. Even if Dad didn't recognize us right away, at least we'd have the chance to win his love all over again."

"We can consider that our plan B." Amanda patted her daughter's leg as the teen sat on the arm of the sofa. "So, did you want to show me something?" she asked, pointing to the laptop clutched in Jenny's hands.

"I thought you'd want to know I got an email from Nate. I can't believe it, but he's back in college. He told me the fire had nothing to do with any of us, so there's no real reason to be afraid."

"Well, that's good news," Amanda said, feigning surprise. "So, how's he doing?"

"Good, I guess. He'd like to come visit me soon."

Amanda forced herself to remain calm. "This isn't a good time, Jennifer. Maybe he can visit in a few months."

"What do you mean by a few months?" Jenny cried, her frustration boiling over. "Gosh, Mom, that's not fair."

"No, it's not, sweetie," Amanda said, her tone more edgy then she intended. "However, none of what's happen is fair to any of us. For now, we need to focus on getting your Dad well."

"Dad doesn't know we exist," Matthew said as he entered the room. With his fists clenched and his jaw locked tight, Matty was the picture of Lee Stetson when push came to shove.

Robert joined the group, too, looking more forlorn than irritable. "Dad may never remember us."

"Of course he will," Amanda defended in a voice thick with alarm. Good Lord, despite ongoing counseling sessions at the Agency, the children were still sitting on a lot of hurt and hostility.

Dotty intervened. "Let's not imagine the worst case scenario. There's no reason to underestimate your father's love for you and his determination to get well." She steered the boys toward the kitchen, giving Amanda and Jenny a little privacy. "I think some hot chocolate will cheer us up. Do you boys know where your mother hid the marshmallows?"

Jenny slid down into the sofa cushions, burying her face in her mother's lap. "Mom, I'm sorry, but I'm worried about Dad and Nate."

Amanda wrapped her arms around the quaking frame of her daughter. "I know Jen, but you need to be patient and trust the future. Daddy will return to us, and Nate will be invited for a visit. I promise."

Jenny nodded, seemingly satisfied with the agreement. Then pulling herself together, she opened her laptop and pulled up a Penn State website. "I've been looking at colleges and universities in Pennsylvania."

"Oh?" Amanda felt guilt and regret wash over her already fragile emotions. Visiting college campuses was an activity they'd all planned to do together in October. Time was certainly getting away from them. Jenny's senior year was racing by without her parents' help. "I thought you had your heart set on William and Mary or the University of Maryland."

"Yes, maybe, but the Bronsons invited me to visit Pennsylvania schools over Columbus Day weekend. They thought I'd enjoy touring campuses with Kristen."

"That's very nice of the Bronsons." Amanda hesitated, still feeling the need to shelter Jennifer after all that had transpired in recent weeks. "I don't know, Jen; you haven't made appointments to meet with admission counselors. And, too, it's something that Dad and I wanted to share with you."

"And when will that happen, Mom? If I wait much longer, it will be too late to submit applications to colleges. May I at least see the campuses?"

Amanda sighed, realizing Jenny didn't need another disappointment. "When do they leave?"

"On Friday. They'd like to depart before noon, so I'll need a note for school. We'll be back on Monday afternoon."

"Okay, I'll work it out with Mrs. Bronson." A small kernel of doubt formed in her mind. She couldn't very well caution Kristen's parents about the dangers that stalked the Stetson family. "I wish you'd wait a couple of weeks. Hopefully by then, I could go with you."

"Mom, just trust me, okay?"

Amanda sighed as Jennifer hurried from the room. "Trust me, she says. Where have I heard that before?"

* * *

**Birchwood—October 7, Tuesday Evening, 8:00**

The shadows of the evening crept across the sky, casting a spell of loneliness over the solitary man. Only the garish glow of florescent bulbs lit the cramped living space of the single occupant room. Lee sighed deeply, dreading the silence of the encroaching night. The gathering darkness fell like a shroud over his limited self-control, inviting old ghosts to play havoc with his fragile emotions.

While most memories danced on the periphery of his mind, there was one thing he knew with certainty. He hated hospitals with a vengeance. If memory served him at all, he was the type of man to strong-arm the staff into an early release or simply leave on his own accord.

It was different this time. He wasn't the young, hot-shot agent anymore. He couldn't grit his teeth, endure great pain, and confound security to escape to freedom. Hell, he couldn't get out of bed to go to the bathroom without help.

Lee despised being housed in the nursing care unit. The sterile walls numbed his mind. The strange odors assaulted his senses and made him feel queasy. A man of his low boredom threshold shouldn't be shackled to an old folks' home.

The Birchwood he remembered was filled with vital senior citizens, still happily engaged in life. A few names and faces came to mind, but the people were probably all gone now. God, he wished the Mendleson sisters were still around to treat him like a favorite nephew. He could use a little spoiling tonight, especially since Amanda wasn't around to pamper him.

A knock interrupted his thoughts. "Are you up for visitors?" Two young males stuck their heads around the doorway.

"Come on in." Lee studied the two men who entered the room. Both were reasonably tall, very lean, and remarkably fit. "You seem vaguely familiar. Do I know you?"

The guy with the glasses spoke first. "I'm Jamie King."

"You mean Amanda's son?"

"Yes," the other one replied. "I'm Phillip, his brother. Dr. Hollingsworth said we could drop off a few things from home, um, I mean your place. Mom thought you'd be happy to have some personal items around you."

"Great." Lee observed the two, mindful of their uneasiness as they nervously shuffled their feet. The brothers' discomfort was palpable. Something curious was going on, for sure. "I assume we've never actually met."

"Well, in truth, we do know each other." Jamie shrugged, carefully diverting his gaze. "Ah, you've sort of hung around our house since we were kids."

"Me?"

"Yes, Mom often brought you home." Jamie exchanged an uneasy glance with his brother. "Well, you guys worked together since the eighties - right?"

Lee nodded, feeling a vague sense of déjà vu. "That's correct; I just can't remember ever meeting you. Unfortunately, I have amnesia."

"Yeah, we've been told," Phillip said. "Sorry about your accident."

Jamie moved a little closer to the bed, pushing his glasses more firmly on his face in an oddly familiar manner. "So, Mr. Stetson . . ."

"Call me, Lee."

Jamie grinned. "So, how are you feeling, Lee?"

"I'm a little better every day, I guess." He pointed to the chair. "Sorry, I can only offer one seat."

"No problem." Phillip ambled over to the window and leaned against the sill.

Jamie sat in the molded plastic chair, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

Lee studied the two, wondering what interests they had developed over the years. The only immediate recollections that came to mind were Pretzel the Clown and the Captain Galaxy action hero. Hadn't he gone to a great deal of trouble to obtain them for their birthdays? "So," he finally asked. "What do you guys do for a living?"

"Ah, I went into law like my dad," Phillip said, perking up just a bit.

Lee nodded. "I bet that made him proud."

"Yes, in a way. Dad wanted me to join his firm, but I chose to work for a government legal department with, um, intelligence."

"Do you mean the Agency?" Lee sat up a little straighter, suddenly intrigued by the latest revelation.

"Yeah, I do."

"My God," Lee replied, the shock evident in his voice. "I must work with you on occasion. How could I forget such an important detail?"

Phillip laughed. "Well, that's one less thing you have to remember on your own."

"And I have one more memory for you." Sheepishly, Jamie came to stand beside the bed, placing a hand on Lee's shoulder. "Believe it or not, I also work at the Agency as a cryptologist."

"You're kidding?" Lee shook his head at the surprising news. How could he fail to remember the mother and sons trio working at the Agency?

Phillip looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he abruptly turned toward the door. "Come on, Jamie; let's get the furniture from the van."

Lee watched them leave, his mind still reeling from their disclosure. Then a new dilemma presented itself. Just where did Phillip and Jamie go to get his personal things? Hell, the only home he could remember was the apartment he lived in over twenty years ago. Certainly, after two decades, he would have purchased a house, but, for all he knew, it could be in Timbuktu.

Lee's thoughts were interrupted when the boys returned carrying a large wing back chair and a sturdy drum table. When the furniture was in place, the guys brought in a box of books, pictures, and a handsome brass lamp.

"Almost like home," Jamie said with a grin.

Phillip came over to the bed and plopped the box on the covers. "Go for it, man."

"Thanks." Lee felt like a small kid at Christmas. "Well, I see there's a picture of my mom and dad, Air Force ribbons that belonged to my uncle, and, wow, my Harmon Killebrew baseball - signed."

"Gosh, I'd say, you have a few strong memories," Jamie said, looking a little deflated.

"What's this?" Lee asked, holding up a small photo album.

Phillip shot his brother a guilty look. "They're a few pictures of our family."

Jamie glared at his older sibling. "You agreed to wait. . . ."

"Yeah, I know. On second thought, Lee, maybe we'd better save the photos until your memories start to come back." Phillip reached for the album.

Lee was quicker. "Not a chance," he said, holding it over his head.

The oldest King grinned and extended his right hand. "Take care."

Lee accepted the proffered handshake. "You take care, too, son." Oddly, the term, "son," slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it. God, where did that come from?

Jamie stepped closer and gripped Lee's shoulder. "Well, we'd better go. I hope you feel a lot better soon."

"Thanks, I appreciate it." Lee felt a twinge of regret as he watched their departure. Then in a flash, he remembered the soccer game they played today. Hell, the Agency didn't have a soccer team, did it? "Guys," he called, hoping they'd hear him and turn around.

The twosome came back, pushing the door wide again. "What's up?" Phillip asked amicably.

"Ah I just remembered the office soccer game? Did you win?"

"Soccer?" Jamie asked in confusion.

Phillip's brow furrowed in disbelief. "The Agency doesn't have a soccer team."

"I didn't think so, but your mom said she was going to watch her boys' soccer game today."

"Oh." Jamie's face lit up with recognition. "You must mean Matty and Robby's game. They won."

"Matty and Robby who?" Lee asked, feeling like a blind man in a room full of strangers.

Phillip shoved his brother out the door. "Matty and Robby are our younger brothers," he called over his shoulder as they hurried out of sight.

Lee lay in his bed, stunned by the news. Phillip and Jamie King had siblings. God, it was unimaginable. When did Amanda have more kids?

Or maybe not, he thought, clinging to the faint hope that he was wrong. Maybe Matty and Robby were the children of Amanda's ex-husband. Possibly he was in a second marriage.

"No, no, no," he groaned. That scenario made no sense at all. If the younger children weren't Amanda's kids, why did she go to their soccer game? Certainly his devoted colleague wouldn't leave him languishing in an old peoples' home, so she could rush off to support someone else's sons.

As his heart thumped wildly in his chest, Lee arrived at the only possible conclusion. Amanda King had married a second time. The very notion hit him like a sucker punch to the gut, jarring memories from his muddled brain. Suddenly he could grasp a few of the names and faces of Amanda's past admirers.

There must have been a big pool of men to choose from. Hell, he hoped the lucky stiff wasn't the dim-witted weatherman, Dean McGuire. She could do better than him. The guy was as boring as milk toast.

Or, maybe she didn't settle for dull. Amanda may have landed a real catch. Could she have fallen for the lawyer, Bryce Topping? The guy certainly seemed enamored with her the night he saw them together at the Chez Tayir Restaurant. "Damn," he said as jealousy reared its ugly head.

Then another thought sent his mood plummeting. Oh, God, she may have reconciled with her former husband, what's his name—John, Jim or Joe? Joe King, he finally concluded. He'd never met the guy, but Amanda had mentioned him from time to time. He was over in Africa, wasn't he?

Dammit, he couldn't picture Amanda with anyone. She had a full life – a live-in mother, nice sons, an exciting career, and a caring friend at work. Why in the world would she marry again and have more children?

Lee flinched as he attempted to run long fingers through his crowning glory. "Damn," he muttered, realizing that his trademark feature was sorely lacking in length. And to his utter chagrin, he remembered his thick brown hair was gone forever. Did the women he squired around town like the gray? Would they still want to date a man who counted more scars on his body than stars in the constellation?

He shook his head in utter confusion. Who the hell did he date, anyway? Certainly he didn't go out with the kids from the steno pool anymore. What about the socialites, Celeste Van Kreswinkle or Elisa Danton? Were they still a part of his dating world? Did he even have a dating life? If there was a current girlfriend, wouldn't she have visited him by now?

Dropping his hand to his lap, his fingers brushed the box, still sitting on his bed. Reaching in, he grabbed the small photo album that Phillip had given him. Thumbing through it, he noted that nearly every picture was taken at Amanda's home. Obviously, he'd met her family, because he was in some of the photos, too - definitely a much younger man, but there nevertheless. Flipping the book closed, he decided to start at the beginning.

The first picture had a caption – "King home, 1986." All smiles, the family stood in front of the Christmas tree with their arms draped around each other - Phillip, Jamie, Dotty, Amanda, and someone else. Looking closer, Lee made out a guy with dark wavy hair and a warm smile. Was he Amanda's ex-husband? Maybe so, Phillip appeared to resemble the man.

Turning the page, Lee found more Christmas pictures: one of the boys carrying in the firewood, another one of them giving a gift to Amanda, and then one of a couple sitting together on the sofa. "Hey," he yelled, "that's me."

My God, he'd actually joined Amanda, Dotty and the boys for a King family Christmas. How did that happen? Certainly he was the fifth wheel at the holiday celebration. Amanda must have worried about his solitary football games and Guacamole dip on Christmas Day. It would be just like her to invite him to a real holiday dinner.

Sighing, he turned to the next page. There he was again - washing his Corvette in the King driveway. Amanda appeared ready to turn the hose on him, and Phillip stood poised to throw a bucket of water. "Jeez," he said with a laugh, "it looks like a sneak attack to me."

There were more pictures of him with the family - a picnic in the Kings' backyard, a basketball game at the park, and even one of him standing at the kitchen window talking to Amanda.

Lee exhaled a long breath and pondered his new knowledge. So, the guys weren't kidding tonight. Amanda really did take him home from time to time, and, amazingly, it looked like everyone enjoyed being together.

Oddly the photos all seemed to be taken around 1986, except for one snapshot at the end of the album. It was a real puzzler, but obviously from a more recent event. Apparently the occasion was a family wedding, because everyone was dressed in formal attire. Looking closer, he realized with a start that Phillip King was the groom - still very young, but married nonetheless.

Continuing to peruse the group picture, he noticed Jamie, Joe, and another woman to the left of the bride and groom. Then he spotted Amanda, Dotty and a pretty little girl standing on the right. He stood behind them with a tall, attractive blonde at his side. By all appearances, he took a date to the wedding, but he couldn't place her face or her name.

Blowing out a ragged breath, Lee wished he had a magnifying glass to study the two kids seated on the ground in front of the bridal couple. The children were no bigger than Phillip and Jamie when he first saw them all those years ago. Even though they looked nothing like Amanda's older boys, they had to be the mystery brothers. And who, he wondered, was the young girl with the long dark hair. Was she another sibling to the boys? By all appearances, she looked exactly like Amanda.

"Damn." Sagging against his pillow, Lee knew he'd had enough for tonight. First thing tomorrow, he was going to confront Amanda about her family. He was her close friend after all, and he had a need to know.

* * *

**TBC**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 - Birchwood— Wednesday Morning, October 8**

Amanda walked through the halls of Birchwood with a spring to her step and a smile on her face. "It's a glorious day," she said to the custodian as she navigated his freshly mopped floor.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, tipping his hat.

Hurrying the last few steps to Lee's room, she paused at the door to straighten her neatly hemmed uniform and to secure her tote bag. Then, holding the poppy seed cake in her outstretched hands, she prepared to greet her husband. "Good morning," she practically sang as she made her grand entrance. "I brought you cake and some comfortable clothes."

A low growl emanated from across the room. "Must you be so perky?"

"Of course," she said, fixing a gaze on her cantankerous spouse. His dark scowl gave her pause. "Obviously you aren't feeling like a morning person today."

"Nope," he mumbled. Lee didn't bat an eye. Like a firearm, he appeared to be cocked, ready, and loaded for bear.

Mentally bolstering her resolve, she tried again to brighten his mood. "Would you like to sample my poppy seed cake? Mother says it's my 'Sistine Chapel'."

"Forget it Amanda. I figured out I'm not a breakfast eater."

"Great - that didn't take long." Setting the cake and her tote bag on a shelf by the door, Amanda tried another tactic. "So, how did you sleep?"

"Lousy."

"Did the nurse give you pain medication last night?"

"No."

Amanda cautiously moved toward the bed, doing a quick perusal of the covers. "Ah, no wonder you couldn't sleep. Here are the pain pills, caught between the folds of the blanket. Lee, did you fake out the nurse again?"

"What does it matter?" He shrugged and turned his gaze toward the window.

Amanda had just about reached her threshold for Stetson grumpiness. "Lee, must we play twenty questions? Please tell me what's wrong."

"This," he said, tossing a photo album to the end of his bed. "Do you care to explain?"

Amanda gingerly retrieved the object, handling it like an explosive device. In one way or another, something was about to blow-up in her face. Opening the cover and flipping through the pages, she nearly choked. "Who gave you the photographs?"

"Someone's adult sons paid me a visit last night," he said with biting sarcasm. "Didn't you notice all the homey touches they made to the room?" His arm swept around the perimeter. "It seems your young men chose to jog my memory a bit. They even mentioned they work at the Agency."

"Oh, Lord." Amanda nearly missed the chair when she hurriedly sat down. "Phillip and Jamie were here already?"

"You bet."

"Oh my gosh." Both hands flew to her face as she shook her head in frustration. "I didn't intend for my sons to barge over here last night. Sure, we discussed bringing you some familiar items in the near future. A chair, table, and lamp seemed like good ideas, but certainly not pictures from your past. Lee, I don't think the doctors want you to have a visual history yet."

"Hell, I don't care what the doctors want, so don't give me that damn excuse." Lee's bad mood quickly reached the tipping point. "I have questions, and you have answers. So fess up."

"Fine," she said, bracing herself for the next round with Lee's world class, nasty temper. "Go ahead, Buster. Slug away." Then clasping her trembling hands in her lap, she waited for the verbal onslaught.

Lee was so angry his nostrils flared like a provoked dragon. Then, practically breathing fire, he attacked. "Who are Phillip and Jamie's siblings?"

"Oh," Amanda gasped. "You mean Jenny, Matty and Robby?"

"Yes, them," he said. "I mean the little kids at Phillip's wedding, which, by the way, I obviously attended." Lee slammed his hand against the mattress, his face red with rage. "Hell, Amanda why didn't you tell me that I know your family, and why did you hide the fact that Phillip and Jamie have two brothers and a sister? Are they Joe's children or yours? Or do they belong to both of you?"

Amanda hung her head, praying for guidance and desperately trying to discern how much to say. Finally in a small voice, she laid out as much information as she dared to share. "Lee, you first met my mother and oldest sons in 1986. Gradually you bonded with Mother and the boys, so over the years you've been included in family events."

"I see."

She nodded mutely, wondering if he was capable of putting two and two together. When he had no comment, she ventured more information. "The youngsters in the wedding picture are my children. At the time of Phillip's marriage, Jenny was eleven, and Matty and Robby were seven years old."

"The boys are twins?" Lee was slack-jawed. "God, I can't believe you had more children, let alone twins."

"Joe is not their father," she continued, struggling to keep an even tone. Referring to the album, she pointed at the wedding picture. "The woman beside my ex-husband is his second wife, Carrie. They had one son together, but Joey isn't in the picture. Actually, he took the snapshot. And, as for the father of my young children, he was present for the wedding, too, but not in the way you would imagine."

"So, who is the blonde bombshell in the photo?" he asked, hiding his feelings behind the contemptuous Scarecrow veneer. "I assume she was my date for the King family shindig."

"Date?"

"Yes, date. You know I don't go stag to social events." Reaching for the album, he pointed out the tall blonde standing next to him in the picture.

Amanda gasped. "Oh my gosh, you're talking about Debbie Ann Maccabie, my best friend from childhood. Lee, she attended the wedding because she's Phillip's godmother. Debbie Ann definitely was not your date."

"You mean I actually went alone? I didn't even take Randi . . ."

"Baby," Amanda finished for him. Biting her tongue, she shot him a scorching look. "No, Lee, you didn't fly solo for the wedding, nor did you bring the excessively endowed, clueless blonde, fondly known to you as 'Randi Baby.' Rest assured, however, you did escort a very nice lady, who certainly didn't cramp your style."

"A-man-da, stop," he pleaded. "I didn't mean . . ."

"No, you stop, Lee," she countered, "It's useless to discuss four black books of old girl friends, since most of your personal dating history has dropped off your radar."

"Fine, just forget it," he growled as he tossed the album aside. Looking completely deflated, Lee glanced in her direction, hurt written all over his face. "Amanda, do you have any idea what a shock your second marriage is to me? I didn't know you were seeing anyone, let alone romantically involved."

"Lee, I married again in 1987," she whispered, barely getting the words passed the lump in her throat. "You just don't remember." Hoping against hope, she watched for any signs of recognition, but there was no indication her revelation had penetrated his memories.

"Hell, Amanda," he choked. "In all the time you've been visiting me, you never once mentioned a husband waiting for you at home."

She paced a little, weighing her words carefully. "I don't have a husband at home," she said in all honesty. "It seems like an eternity since we actually lived together."

Locked behind his Scarecrow facade, Lee held her gaze. "Oh, I see. You're divorced."

"No, we're going through a period of separation, but I'm hoping we'll reconcile." Her eyes bore into his, willing him to connect the dots.

"Humph, maybe you're better off without the guy." A muscle in Lee's jaw twitched as a veil of sadness clouded his eyes. "So, do I know your husband?"

"You did, once upon a time, but apparently not anymore." Something in Amanda snapped. Amnesia or not, Lee should see the truth without her having to take a branding iron and burn their initials on his forehead.

Poker-faced and stubbornly mute, he just sat there. Clearly he was waiting for her to spell out more details.

Defiant to a fault, she glared back at him, holding her crossed arms tightly against her thin frame. Obviously, her husband wasn't ready to recognize their relationship. "Lee, I've had enough. I can't continue our conversation right now."

"But, I have more questions," he said in protest. "And as your friend and colleague, I have a need to know."

"Well, that's too bad, because I don't have any more answers today." Hastily, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

"Amanda, come back here," he demanded, his voice sounding more desperate now.

She fled the room, blindly turning a corner and practically plowing over Dr. Hollingsworth. "Amanda," he said with concern as he gripped her arms. "What's wrong? Is Lee giving you a hard time?"

"I can't play our game anymore today," she said. "My whole charade is crumbling. Lee is putting things together quickly, but he still can't see the truth when it hits him squarely between the eyes. You're right, though. Emotionally, Lee Stetson is running away from his family, and I'm afraid he's never coming back."

* * *

** Point of Rocks, Maryland - Late Wednesday morning**

Amanda climbed the porch steps of her Point of Rocks, Maryland home. Sighing deeply, she drew strength from the familiar setting, named for the striking rock formation formed by the Potomac River cutting through the Catoctin Mountains. The Stetson-King family had never intended to relocate so far from Washington D.C., but the temptation had been too great when the charm of the colonial house had enticed them to settle here.

Located in Frederick County, Maryland, Point of Rocks was an historic town, just across the river from Loudoun County, Virginia. Despite its sleepy appearance, the community had an exciting past, manifested by its Gothic Revival train station, the Chesapeake and Ohio Canal, and the long ago fought Civil War battles. Even today, the railroad transported commuters to Washington, D.C.

Pausing on her spacious front porch, Amanda scanned the beauty of the sun drenched countryside. The wide expanse of lawn was shaded by a canopy of maple trees - their bright red leaves rippling in the cool autumn breeze. Four chestnut horses grazed in the Stetson pasture, and two Golden Retrievers chased squirrels in the lower meadow.

Overwhelmed with fatigue, Amanda took a seat on one of the white rockers that lined the long veranda. Two cats jumped from the porch swing and came to brush against her legs. Picking up the Tabby, she stroked the silky fur as she studied the marigolds that saluted from their flowerpots. Home sweet home, she thought. Soaking in the ambiance, she allowed the happy memories of the Stetson homestead to sooth her frazzled nerves.

Like Lee, she was enchanted by the nineteenth century farmhouse. With its red brick exterior, black shutters, and third floor dormer windows, the stately house practically called their names when they drove by in 1990. They'd fallen in love with the place at first sight and had hocked nearly everything they owned to buy it seventeen years ago. The quaint home had been a safe haven from their dangerous jobs and the perfect location to raise two sets of kids.

Rising from her perch, she stepped down into the yard and followed the walkway around to the rear of the house. Baseball bats, soccer balls and a sagging volleyball net littered the yard, a testimony to their children's love of sports. The endless backyard had its own field of dreams - the softball diamond Lee meticulously groomed for his growing family.

Thankfully, Jenny and the boys were doing their best to keep the ball field cut, along with caring for the animals. However, by all appearances, they were consigning their athletic equipment to the whims of Mother Nature.

Picking up the sports gear, Amanda walked over to the deck and emptied the items into a bin. Then stepping around Mandy's pink tricycle, she moved inside. "Mother, I'm home." Shutting the back door and laying her purse on the counter, Amanda prepared for the inquisition.

Dotty poked her head out of the laundry room. "Darling, what's wrong? You only left two and half hours ago. Did your patient wear you out already?"

"You have no idea." Heading for the coffeemaker, Amanda poured herself a cup and took a seat at the kitchen table. Savoring the taste of the Hazelnut brew, she debated whether or not to head upstairs to bed where she could snuggle under the "wedding band" quilt and remember the glorious nights she'd shared with a husband who may never again want to celebrate their marriage.

Dotty set a basket of clean clothes in the hallway and came to stand by her daughter. "All right, dear, why don't you tell me what happened."

"I don't know where to begin, Mother. Lee's personality is as unpredictable as the weather. I never know who will greet me when I walk into his room. Yesterday I was met by the chief of fashion police, and today it was Attila the Hun."

"Oh, darling, I hope you're exaggerating. Honestly, you left here with a spring to your step and then returned home, dragging your chin on the linoleum. I hope your husband is feeling guilty by now." Dotty slid into the chair next to her daughter and placed a supportive arm around her shoulders.

Amanda offered a weak smile. "Don't worry; Lee only bruised my feelings."

"Well, that's bad enough after all the agony his injuries have put you through."

"Mother, did Phillip and Jamie tell you they were planning to see Lee last night?"

Dotty's mouth flew open, and her jaw practically rested on the neckline of her sweater. "No, dear, I was under the impression his family isn't welcome at Birchwood. Heaven forbid that an amnesic should be told he has a wife and children that love him. I tried to convince the doctors, but, oh no, they didn't want to listen to an old lady with over three quarters of a century of wisdom to share."

Amanda nervously ran a finger around the rim of her cup. "Unfortunately, Dr. Hollingsworth seems to have hit the mark on this one. Lee isn't ready to remember his family. The guys laid the truth right in his lap when they gave him some revealing photos. However, even when Lee saw himself in the family picture at Phillip's wedding, he couldn't figure out that the woman standing in front of him was his wife."

"Men can be dense, darling, even if they have all their faculties in place." Dotty peered over her reading glasses with one of her shrewd looks. "Would you believe I followed your daddy around the college campus for three weeks before he bothered to notice me? I purposely sat next to him in French class, but he wouldn't so much as offer me a 'comment allez-vous'. I also asked him to slow dance at a college mixer, but he didn't do more than step on my toes through the lovely song 'I'll Be Seeing You in All the Old Familiar Places'." Dotty shook her head at the memory. "The song should have been 'I'll Be Ignoring You, in All the Old Familiar Places'."

"Oh, Mother, that's awful. Maybe Daddy was very shy when he started college."

"Or he was as dumb as a doornail," Dotty merely rolled her eyes. "Well, I didn't give up. I made a point of sitting at his table for dinner one evening. Then I simply appointed myself the hostess for the meal and introduced everyone else to the man I secretly wanted to marry."

"Good move, Mother."

"Well, he wasn't impressed. He simply looked at me and said, 'and who are you'?"

"Oh, no."

"Honestly, Amanda, after all I'd done to catch his eye, the man was still resisting my charms. Before the meal ended, I tried one last bid for attention. Passing the Banana Cream pie around the table, I let a slice slip into his lap. Let me tell you; that got his attention faster than a race car at Monte Carlo. Your father was furious."

"And he still married you?"

"As strange as it seems, the incident turned the tide. When I walked out of the dining hall that night, he was standing there waiting for me. I'm convinced to this day, if I hadn't connived and schemed that man would never have made a move toward me. Just thank your lucky stars I was a determined woman."

"So, I shouldn't give up, huh?" Amanda couldn't help but laugh.

Dotty's freckled hand wiped tears from her shimmering brown eyes. "You've never given up on anything, darling. Your husband loves and needs you, so don't you ever doubt that he'll come back to all of us."

"You're right, Mother," Amanda said, blotting a tear that perched on her eyelid. "I broke through his emotional wall once before; I should be able to do it again."

"Absolutely! You need to be pro-active, darling. I think the boys were right. We should plant clues all around Lee, until he finally has an epiphany."

"Maybe you're right. I'll give the matter some more thought." Amanda rose from the table and walked over to the sink to rinse her cup. Then staring out the window, she attempted to make sense out of the family catastrophe. "Mother, there's something else that's been bothering me besides Lee's fear of harming us."

"Oh?"

"With all his job-related stress, my husband craved more rest and solitude, but I coaxed him into going on a group vacation. Lee tried to warn me that cramming two older parents, four young adults, three teens, and a whining toddler under one roof for seven days would be the family's undoing."

Dotty hurried across the kitchen and placed a hand on her daughter's back. "Amanda Stetson, now you listen to me. Things may have been stressful for all of you, but thunderstorms, sibling rivalry, and stomach bugs could never distract Lee Stetson to the point of nearly driving his loved ones over a cliff."

"I know that, Mother." However, if the family hadn't overwhelmed Lee's patience, he may have been better equipped to handle the runaway vehicle." Amanda blinked back tears that threatened her resolve to remain strong in the face of adversity. "Thankfully, you had the good sense to visit Aunt Lillian and avoid a disastrous family vacation."

"Yes, well, I'm not a masochist, anymore. I paid my dues over the years. It's no secret how group living arrangements work. One couple takes the beautiful master bedroom with the private bath and wide screen television. Then everyone else has to negotiate for the queen bed with the broken springs, the narrow bunk beds, the sleeper sofa, the low Futon, and the air mattress. Thanks, but no thanks."

"Oh, Mother, Lee and I would have made your comfort a priority."

"Of course, darling, but my back still spasms when I remember all the summer vacations I spent in a pup tent when Phillip and Jamie were small. I even slept in a hammock once."

Amanda smiled. "Well, you were certainly missed on our trip, but I'm so thankful you held us all together in the aftermath of Lee's accident. You've always managed to lighten my load."

"That's what mothers do, dear." Dotty placed a hand under her daughter's chin and met her gaze. "Now why don't you head upstairs and get some needed rest. Tomorrow you can wear an outfit that will wow your husband. I bet he won't take his eyes off the door until you return."

"Maybe so, Mother. However, Lee most likely punched a hole in the wall when I stormed out. He'll need a lot of time to cool down before I make another appearance."

* * *

**Agency – Wednesday afternoon – 3:00 P.M.**

Amanda's footsteps echoed in the bowels of the Agency as she hurried from the elevator and made her way along the wide corridor. Summoning a small smile, she murmured a polite greeting when straight-faced guards robotically opened the doors to the bullpen. Maneuvering through the maze of familiar desks, she was quickly accosted by colleagues.

"It's great to see you, Mrs. Stetson."

"How's Scarecrow doing?"

"Tell Lee we miss him."

Amanda nodded, grateful for their sentiments, but reluctant to say anything about Lee's condition. She didn't know if word had spread that Scarecrow had no recollection of his marriage to Mrs. King. "Lee misses you, too," she called as she hurried to the section chief's office. Then pausing at the door, she braced herself for the jolt that would surely hit her like a tsunami. Francine Desmond would be sitting behind Lee Stetson's desk. Taking a cleansing breath, Amanda gave her signature knock.

"Come," Francine called.

As she crossed the threshold, the poignant reminders of her husband were everywhere. Even though he was on disability leave, the office was still decorated with Lee's impressive commendations and photographs of Harry V. Thornton, Billy Melrose and the legendary team of Scarecrow and Mrs. King. Honoring her friend, Francine left everything exactly the same - as if waiting for him to return and simply pick up where he left off.

"Thank you," Amanda whispered with palpable relief. "I needed the reminder that Lee still works here."

Francine relaxed her professional demeanor. "We're all rooting for Lee to take over the reins again," she said kindly. "Agents and support staff remind me every day that Scarecrow has been the backbone of field section for the last twelve years."

With an appreciative nod, Amanda reached for the Stetson family photograph, displayed prominently on Lee's desk. As she studied the dear features of her husband and children, she chastised herself with "what-ifs." What if she had taken Lee's reservations seriously? What if she had left Mr. Baxter's home before the fire? What if she had gone with her husband and young boys on the fateful ride down the mountainside?

"Don't do this, Amanda," she quietly berated herself.

"Don't do what?" Francine asked as she motioned toward a wing back chair.

"Blame myself." With a heavy heart, Amanda seated herself on the edge of the cushion as if she'd bolt at the slightest provocation. "Mothers always blame themselves."

"So, I've heard." Francine laughed lightly. "There are excellent reasons I opted to remain childless. Self-flagellation was high on my list."

Amanda couldn't help but smile. "I'm afraid I'm a model mom when it comes to personal accountability."

"Yes, as Scarecrow was so fond of saying, 'our Mrs. King has motherhood carved on her bones'." Francine handed her a glass of water and waited while she took a long sip. "So, how is our patient today?"

"Not very patient, I'm afraid." Amanda set down the glass and anxiously rubbed her hands together as her mind replayed the morning fiasco. "Thanks to my grown sons, Lee figured out that I married again and had more children. Somehow it feels like a personal betrayal to him."

"And who does Lee think you married?"

"He doesn't care if I married Joe King again or the man in the moon. He expects me to be single."

Francine rolled her eyes. "I imagine our Scarecrow feels your highest loyalty should be to your long-time Agency colleague."

"Undoubtedly," Amanda said, "but to make a long story short, Lee and I had a fight. He probably claims victory, because I threw in the towel and stormed out before we went a full ten rounds."

"Good, let him sulk."

"So," Amanda said, shrugging off her melancholy, "you wanted me here at three o'clock sharp. I hope you won't be announcing the end to my family leave."

"No, your family leave is in place for as long as you need it. Congressman Aubrey Penneywell will arrive any minute now to share his latest scuttlebutt on Malcolm Earl Jessup. I thought maybe you'd like to hear his perspective on the situation."

Amanda perked up. "Absolutely, I'd be honored to meet the Congressman."

A firm knock interrupted their exchange. As Francine opened the door, Agent Morrison announced the guest. "Congressman Penneywell is here to see you, Ms. Desmond."

"Howdy, there ma'am," he called in his Texan drawl as his hefty barrel chest proceeded him into the office. Removing his pristine white cowboy hat from his mass of silver hair, he proffered a meaty hand to Francine and nodded toward Amanda. "How y'all been doing?"

Francine took charge. "Congressman, I'd like you to meet Amanda Stetson, one of our top agents and the wife of Lee Stetson."

Aubrey Penneywell respectfully stepped forward and accepted Amanda's hand. "Mrs. Stetson, it's a pleasure to meet you. I was sorry to hear about your husband's critical injuries."

"Thank you, Congressman. Lee is making progress every day."

"Glad to hear it. He's a damn good federal agent." As Francine gestured toward the office seating, Penneywell lumbered toward the nearest chair. With a loud grunt, he lowered his bulky frame into the inadequate space.

Amanda quietly claimed the matching wing back chair next to the congressman, and Francine, with an air of authority, seated herself at the executive desk. Then, while Chief Desmond reviewed the case information with Aubrey Penneywell, Amanda quietly observed the Agency guest.

The quirky politician was a study in contrasts. Most striking were the Texan's scuffed, black cowboy boots, undoubtedly as much a part of him as the gleaming gold wedding band on his left hand. While his excessive height and girth were intimidating, the congressman's kindness seemed to have no boundaries. Despite a rough and rumpled appearance, Penneywell had earned a solid reputation for promoting harmony and the common good. It was little wonder that the man supported his friend, Malcolm Jessup.

"So," Francine said, moving things along. "You mentioned over the phone that Dr. Jessup is in greater danger than originally stated."

"I'm afraid my friend is about as popular as a skunk at a garden party, and that's the god-awful truth. In a manner of speaking, Mack seems to have a bounty on his head. His stance on climate change has riled up various extremist factions in the country that have a bone to pick with environmentalists and the federal government."

"I thought the government was on the side of the pro-drillers," Amanda said. "Dr. Jessup and his anit-fracking contingent seem to be overruled by politicians and the fossil fuel industry."

"You're correct, ma'am. Malcolm is caught in a "David versus Goliath" battle of nearly Biblical proportions. However, the more he gallivants around the country, warning of impending doom, the more he attracts the attention of some informal but dangerous paramilitary groups. Some of them would gladly track him across the country like a hound dog on a coon hunt."

Francine studied the seasoned politician. "What armed groups are we talking about?"

The congressman shrugged. "I can't say for sure. They could be white supremacy groups, conspiracy theory groups, or one of the many hate groups. It's anybody's guess. However, Mack is an obvious target. He not only enrages climate change deniers, but he's pushing for more government regulation on the fossil fuel industry. In this day and age, many people want to deregulate everything. They claim to want government off their backs."

Francine quirked an eyebrow. "But what would make a white supremacy group go after Dr. Jessup?"

Congressman Penneywell mopped his brow with a handkerchief. "I'm afraid his ethnicity could get stuck in the craw of some folks. On top of his other traits, Mack's half Latino. Put all the factors together and you have a lethal mix.

"The groups sound like domestic terrorists," Amanda replied. "I thought the arguments over fracking were between those who want to lease their land for profit and those who want to protect their land and water."

Penneywell's fleshy jowls jiggled as he nodded in agreement. "True, the horizontal drilling craze has turned neighbor against neighbor and brother against brother. Just check out local hangouts in any fracking town. With a little alcohol to loosen the tongues, the atmosphere may be simmering with animosity, just waiting to boil over."

"Yes," Amanda added, "but, regardless of their position, neighbors and families still share a bond in the community where they live."

The congressman snorted with contempt. "Unfortunately, ma'am, town feuds attract rabble-rousers with grudges to nurse. Agitators may come from far and wide to stir up trouble among the locals and incite them to carry out heinous crimes. Hate groups can enflame passions and ignite tempers, and before you know it something has blown up like a store of dynamite."

Francine's finely sculptured eyebrows disappeared beneath her bangs. "So the anti-government types or a hate group may have caused a federal agent to be run off the road, just to assuage someone's anger."

"Or," Amanda added, "Someone's anger may have influenced a pyro maniac, prompting him to burn down a house with a climate scientist and a federal agent in it."

"You're both correct."

"Oh my gosh," Amanda said as she blew out a ragged breath. "The possible involvement of outside groups certainly sheds new light on the situation."

Francine nodded. "Yes, the picture is far more complicated then we imagined."

Amanda turned to the congressman. "Sir, does your position put you in danger, too? At the very least, your willingness to take a stand may have serious consequences for your next election."

"Hell, what would anyone want with an old crusty cuss like me? And, as for my congressional seat, I don't give a hoot. I'm in my eighth term of office and have no intentions of running again"

"Your retirement will be a great loss to the country.

"Thank you, ma'am, I appreciate your kind words." Struggling to his feet, Penneywell grabbed his hat. "I'm afraid I have to skedaddle back to the Capitol. I'll keep nagging Jessup to get off the lecture circuit, but, short of throwing him in the hoosegow on trumped up charges, I don't see how I can prevent him from having his say in public places."

Francine followed him to door. "Thank you for your help, Congressman. We'll look into the militia organizations and hate groups' angle. "

Waving a good-bye to Congressman Pennywell, Amanda came to stand by her colleague. "What about Jean and Nate Kearsley? Has anyone checked on them lately?"

"Of course, Amanda," Francine said a bit defensively. "They're fine. Jean Kearskey is spending time with her father in Maine. Nate is in Massachusetts, attending classes."

"I hope they plan to stay put. Jenny will be exploring a few Pennsylvania colleges over Columbus Day weekend, so I don't want her placed at risk. She still communicates with Nate."

"Nate's in Boston. I don't see how that puts Jennifer in danger." Francine reached over and clasped her friend's hand. "Honestly, Amanda, you have to cut the apron strings. Your daughter will turn eighteen in a couple of weeks."

Amanda stiffened at the comment. "I'm well aware of Jenny's milestone birthday. However, if Lee could remember he has a daughter, he'd never let her tour unfamiliar college campuses without us."

Francine sighed audibly, her impatience evident. "In my opinion, Lee Stetson is an overprotective father, but that's not surprising given his wild escapades as a young man. For what it's worth, I think you're smart in trusting Jenny to make good decisions."

"She's earned the right, Francine, but I still have my doubts. Jennifer has spies for parents. Anything can happen."

* * *

**TBS**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 - Birchwood—Thursday Morning, October 9 **

Still stewing about Amanda's abrupt departure yesterday, Lee slouched in his wheelchair as he stared out the bay window of the patients' lounge. He hated being exposed to curious eyes, but apparently he had no say in the matter. Nurse Bailey, the mean bruiser who missed her true calling as a sumo wrestler, insisted he needed a change of scenery. It didn't matter that he was exhausted from physical therapy; his wishes were ignored.

Absently running a hand across the back of his neck, Lee focused on nature's entertainment, unintentionally staged for his enjoyment. First a squirrel raced across the yard with an acorn clenched in his teeth. Then a blue jay squawked impertinently, scattering sparrows in his flight path. And finally a calico cat settled into an Adirondack chair and curled up in a ball to enjoy a nap. Lee followed their activities with a stab of envy. Even the smallest creatures experienced freedoms denied to him.

How could he ever think the lucky ones ended up in Birchwood? Lucky would be dying before he ever needed a nursing facility. Lucky would be going out in a blaze of glory, while still in control of his speed and prowess. Lucky would be dying in a fierce shoot-out, sacrificing himself to save his colleagues.

"Oh, there you are." A familiar voice pulled him from his introspection, but it wasn't the voice he hoped to hear. Without a word, he turned to face his visitor.

Francine came to join him by the window, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Where's your Bedside Bluebell this morning? It's not Amanda's style to let you out of her sight for very long."

He merely shrugged. "We're not joined at the hip. Amanda has better things to do than babysit an invalid."

"Oh, I see," she said, with a discerning look. "You two are still angry with each other." Francine pulled a Queen Anne chair next to his wheelchair and perched herself on the edge. "Why don't you tell Dr. Desmond all about the latest clash of wills?"

"Humph, I don't need you playing my shrink." Lee shot his colleague a disgusted look before deciding to test the waters. "When did Amanda and I stop being sworn enemies? She claims we're close friends."

Francine shrugged. "I'm not sure I know when the friendship started," she admitted. "You two played your cards pretty close to the chest."

"Well, the friendship doesn't add up to me." Lee released the brake and turned his wheelchair to face his Agency counterpart. "I remember when everything about Amanda sent me over the edge. If you asked me what I found most annoying about her, I'd be hard pressed to limit my list to six pages."

"You mean sixty pages, don't you?" Francine's eyes danced with amusement. "At first, you protested every time Billy teamed the two of you together, but at some point you and Amanda clicked as partners. Billy called you his best team."

"Okay, fine," Lee said, recognizing the truth to her words. "We worked well together, but our personal lives existed in two different universes."

"True, you and Amanda were complete opposites." Francine raised a sculptured brow, pinning him with an intense gaze. "She changed you, Lee. To the world, you kept your Scarecrow persona, but gradually you softened your demeanor around Amanda. You allowed her into the parts of your life that were off limits to everyone else."

Lee sighed, careful to keep his poker face in place. "Do you think I learned to trust her?"

"Absolutely, and that's a biggie, because you didn't trust anyone - at least not completely."

Lee leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "Apparently Amanda introduced me to her family. How was that possible? The unbending Mrs. King didn't want her two worlds of family and work to collide. In her rule book, suburban housewives never took spies home for dinner on meatloaf night."

"No, they didn't." Francine folded her hands in her lap and avoided his gaze. "Listen Lee, I can't spell everything out for you. Suffice it to say, for Amanda King the sun rose and set with Lee Stetson. She found it impossible to keep you separate from the people she loved the most."

Lee's head shot up in alarm. "Are you saying Amanda was, ah, you know, in love with me?"

Francine held her hands in front of her like a shield. "Sorry, Lee, you need to save that question for your colleague. I've been a total failure at reading someone else's emotional signals, and I learned a long time ago to never give advice on matters of the heart."

"Yeah, I'm with you." He shook his head in total bewilderment. "I don't understand why Amanda got married again. How could she be committed to the Agency and her partner, and then run off and marry some bozo?"

"Believe me, I never could figure that one out." Francine absently tapped her nails against the arm of the chair, seemingly deep in thought.

Lee blew out a shaky breath in a fruitless effort to calm his nerves. "So, how are things at the salt mines? Have the powers-that-be named you as my permanent replacement?"

"No, Lee, they haven't given up on you - at least not yet. The doctors feel your memory gaps are more related to emotional trauma than brain damage."

"Great, so I just need to overcome my miserable childhood and the deaths of my parents and countless colleagues. Then, viola, all those elusive memories will snap back into place."

"Maybe with a little luck," she said with a smile. "Just so you know, I've already told the Agency director that I'm not interested in being your permanent replacement. I'm seriously considering early retirement. Jonathan is ready to expand our horizons and plan some extensive traveling."

"Good for you, Francine. If I was a married man, I might consider jumping ship, sooner rather than later. I know Billy's retirement has meant a lot to Jeanne." He watched a strange look flash across her face. "What?"

"Nothing," she said, gathering up her purse and rising to her feet. Bending over, Francine offered him a gentle hug. "Take care, Scarecrow. I'll be back to see you soon."

"I'll count on it." He watched her take a couple of steps away before she spun around on her stiletto heels. "Do me a favor, Lee."

"Sure, I'll try."

"Take it easy on Amanda, okay? Caring for you and her children gets to be a heavy load."

"Hell, I'm not holding her here, am I?" He felt the bile rise in his throat as he spat the words out like venom. "If she thinks I'm a burden, then cut her loose."

"It's not like that, Lee, and you know it. Amanda would follow you into hell."

"Well, I don't want her to follow me anywhere," he yelled, turning the heads of passers-by.

Francine came back to stand over him. "Yes, you do, Lee. It's time you recognized a good thing while you still have it." Without another word, she turned and strutted toward the door, her back rigid with indignation.

Heartsick, he watched her leave. Their sparring provided more questions than answers. How was he ever going to make heads or tails of the enigma named Amanda King?

The looming presence of new intruder pulled him from his thoughts.

"It's time for lunch, sweetie pie."

God, he couldn't catch a break. Now another staff member inflicted herself into his personal space. "I'm not hungry," he growled, hoping to intimidate the pushy aide.

Unperturbed, Zoe Darling set his wheelchair in motion. "Here we go," she sang as if he was a toddler in a stroller. In her saccharine mind, a spoonful of sugar always helped the medicine go down.

Lee lowered his head, so he wouldn't need to see the other residents staring at him. Damn, first the patients' lounge and now the patients' dining room. He didn't want to be paraded around the nursing home. The only dignity he'd been allowed today was to wear the sweat suit Amanda left for him when she dropped off the poppy seed cake.

"How's this, sweetie pie?" Zoe shoved his wheelchair close to the dining table.

"Ouch," he yelped when she banged his kneecap against the table leg. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Oopsy Daisy," she crooned. "Sorry for the ouchy." Zoe continued to fuss over him, placing the napkin in his lap and the silverware within easy reach. "I'll get you a plate."

"Stetson, old man," came the cheery greeting from the other side of the table.

Lee looked up and groaned. Oh, no, he was dining with none other than Fred Fielder. The bumbling agent had been forced to take early retirement when one too many concussions got the better of him. Apparently senility had started prematurely for poor Fred. In Fielder's warped mind, it was 1985, and he was still on active duty at the Agency.

Lee managed to nod in recognition, relegating civility to its barest minimum. "How are you doing, Fielder?" God, the old coot looked like a spotted owl. His liver spots had liver spots. He'd put on some weight, too, no doubt from starchy institutional food and mind-numbing boredom.

Fred's knobby finger poked at Lee. "Been on any interesting cases lately, Scarecrow?"

"Humph," Lee picked at the bland food placed before him by Zoe. Maybe, if he kept his eyes on his plate, he wouldn't have to focus on Fred's huge nose and elongated ears. The ravages of time had outdone themselves on this senior citizen.

Fielder kept right on talking. "I guess you heard about my commendation."

"What commendation?" Lee set his fork down and pushed his plate away. The food was awful.

Fred took his spoon and scooped the Jell-O off Lee's plate. "Billy promised to honor me for dismantling 'Savior' before it blew."

"You didn't dismantle anything, you old fool." Lee felt his temper rise from simmer to boil. Fred's grandiose delusions were about to send him over the edge. "You ran away, remember?"

Fielder's mouth dropped wide open. "That's a lie, Stetson. I rounded up Ballon's men and disarmed the bomb."

"Whatever you say, pal." Lee shook his head in resignation. There was little use in arguing with Fred's distorted version of the truth.

The old geezer leaned across the table, attempting to whisper over the hum of the lunchtime crowd. "You'd be surprised to know who shows up around this place."

"Spare me, please," Lee said with exasperation.

Fielder kept right on going. "Former President Richard Nixon is here. I saw him on poker night."

"That's not possible - he died in 1994."

"No, really, he was smoking cigars with former Vice President Nelson Rockefeller, Dr. Austin Smyth and Harry V. Thornton."

"I'll grant you, Dr. Smyth is probably still around, but the others are dead - you got that Fielder? D-E-A-D - dead."

Poor Fred looked completely flummoxed. "Well, you don't need to get nasty, Scarecrow."

Bristling with anger, Lee busied himself with arranging packets of artificial sugar on the end of the table. Maybe Fielder would take the hint and leave him alone.

Apparently, silence wasn't golden in Fred's book. "Where's your little housewife-turned-spy?"

"I don't know where the hell she is - work maybe." Lee took a long drink of water and tried to feign interest in a serving of white cake.

Fred prattled on again. "Jessica and Marilyn are disappointed that you no longer expect favors from the steno pool. They set the water cooler gossip abuzz with indelicate rumors about Stetson and King."

Lee cringed. When had people considered Scarecrow and Mrs. King an "item" for water cooler gossip? He bit back a sharp retort and settled instead for a warning glare in Fred's direction.

The thorn in the flesh hung on. "You're not taking advantage of your devoted protégé, are you?"

Dropping his fork in mid-bite, Lee vaguely heard it clatter to the floor. By their own volition, his fingers balled into a fist as he prepared to take a punch. "Take it back, you old fart."

"Lee, don't." A familiar raspy voice called from over his right shoulder. Then soft fingers wrapped around his wrist. Immediately an aura filled his space, and he turned around, searching for his refuge. There she was, his Amanda, dressed in the soft pink and cream pastels he remembered so well. Everything about her soothed his spirit. Immediately he relaxed his fist and breathed a sigh of relief. "You came back."

"Of course," she said, setting his wheelchair in motion and waving a good-bye to Fred. "I came back to apologize and to make things right between us."

"I'm the one who should be sorry, Amanda. Your private life is none of my business."

She halted their progress and stooped beside his chair. Taking his hand, she looked him straight in the eyes. "Lee, everything about my life is your business. I don't want you to ever doubt how important you are to me."

He nodded mutely, keenly aware of the attraction he felt for Amanda. She may be married to another, but nothing could negate the love he saw in her eyes and the love he felt for her in the moment. He knew in his heart they belonged together, but somehow the fates had intervened to keep them apart.

* * *

**SMK, SMK, SMK**

Words were unnecessary as Amanda settled him into bed. Gone was all the pretense of the Bedside Bluebell. Now every action was more personal - the warmth of her smile, the softness of her voice, the intimacy of her touch.

"I brought your pajamas. May I help you into them?" She looked at him intently.

There was no evidence of the bashful Mrs. King, who always turned her eyes away when he had to undress in front of her. "Sure," he said, trying to hide a smile. Watching her calmly move about the room, he pondered an old case that took place at an antique car show. When Amanda rescued him from a walk-in freezer, she'd bulked at the mere inference she may need to help him change clothes. However, that was then, and this was now.

With an economy of motion, Amanda slipped his left arm through the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "I see your I.V. is gone."

He nodded, enjoying the breach of his personal space.

Carefully, she pulled the sweatshirt over his head and freed his right arm from the garment. Folding it neatly, she returned with his blue pajama top. Then, with expert care, she guided it into place and slowly buttoned the front together. "There," she said, patting his chest, "you look more comfortable."

"Amanda, would you mind . . . ?" He pointed to his sweatpants and watched her nod without the slightest hesitation. As she gently stretched out his legs, he felt relieved to be wearing his boxer shorts. There was no use luring her outside her comfort zone. However, Lee knew damn well that he was deliberately subjecting her to some kind of test. Just how far would Mrs. King go for Scarecrow?

Apparently, the new improved Bedside Bluebell would go pretty far. Amanda slipped her fingers under the elastic waistband and gave a yank to his sweatpants. Tugging slowly, she eased the sweats off and then pulled the pajama bottoms into place. "You can do the honors," she said, pointing to the snaps.

As she turned away, he finished the task and then caught her attention again. "Amanda, what just happened here?"

"I helped you undress and dress, Lee. That's one of the ways a trained nursing volunteer assists patients."

"Not the bashful Bedside Bluebell that I remember."

"Oh, for heaven's sake, I got over my shyness years ago," she said with a teasing smile. "It doesn't bother me in the least when I have to get personal with patients."

"Just how personal did you get with me in the past?"

"Oh," she said, the word coming out in a squeak. "What do you mean by personal?"

"Ah, you know," he stammered, before making the verbal leap. "Did we ever take things further in our relationship?"

She took a bold step toward him, ready to meet his challenge. "Oh, you mean, did we engage. . ."

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

Her eyes grew dark as they bore into his. "Yes, Lee, we did."

"Really?" For long seconds he sat stunned, wondering how to respond to such a revelation. "My God, I had no idea we became, ah, physically involved. Was it a fluke or an affair?"

She merely gave him one of her insufferable looks. "Honestly, Lee, it's not like your bashful partner finally succumbed to a mindless night of passion on an undercover assignment."

"I'm sorry, Amanda. I didn't mean it that way." He patted the bed, hoping she'd sit down. "I always knew you took physical intimacy very seriously, so if something happened between us, we must have agreed in advance."

"It was definitely a shared decision," she said, easing herself onto the edge of his bed. Then taking a moment to get comfortable, she allowed her hip to rest against his thigh. "Lee, we didn't enter into a relationship quickly or easily. It literally took years. First we became colleagues, then friends, and then best friends. We both sensed a mutual attraction, but, because of our professional relationship, the danger of our jobs, and our differing lifestyles, we were reluctant to move things up a notch."

He nodded, fearful if he spoke he'd get her off track.

"Well," she continued, "there were a few cases that seemed to place us in comprising positions. Do you remember the Sacker case?"

"Yes, if you mean the Utopian Community nut that wanted to kill the president? However, I can't pull up any specific details at the moment."

Amanda nodded in understanding. "Well, we got inside his community by posing as a couple of reporters. When Peter Sacker didn't believe our cover, he captured us and chained us together. Then he had someone drive us deep into the woods to shoot us. Somehow we got away, but our hands were still bound together by one chain. We ended up having to spend the night shackled together in a swamp while dozens of men hunted us down like animals."

"God, Amanda, it must have been just awful." He reached out to take her hand.

Her lips turned up in a smile. "Yes, but we had each other. In order to stay warm, we had to huddle together. I think it was a turning point in our relationship. Neither of us held out much hope of getting out alive, so we took the time to say things we'd never said before."

"Like what?" he asked, knowing how difficult it was to open up about his feelings.

"Oh," she said, lacing her fingers with his. "I mentioned how grateful I was to know you, and you complimented me by saying I'd taught you a lot about other people and yourself. And then you started to kiss me."

"I did?" He shook his head, remembering sudden surges of desire and the missed opportunities he'd endured in their close encounters as working partners. "So we finally had a real kiss, not just a sham to protect our cover."

"Well, in truth, your kiss missed my lips by a fraction of an inch. Suddenly men with automatic weapons sprayed bullets in our direction, so we had to duck for cover."

"Hell, Amanda, it wasn't a very auspicious beginning for two people who were baring their souls."

"No, but the night definitely had its redeemable moments. We still needed body heat to keep us warm, you know, but nothing improper happened. It was a swamp after all."

They both laughed and then moved forward into each other's arms. For long seconds they held on tight, their bodies swaying to a song of silence, only the heart could hear.

All too soon, Lee pulled away, watching the longing play in Amanda's eyes. He wanted so badly to kiss her, but the weight of the unknown held him back. He had no memories of them growing close, nor memories of them pulling apart before she married again.

Amanda's eyes softened in understanding. Rising slowly, she began to straighten the silky pink blouse he'd managed to dislodge from her skirt.

Automatically, he reached out to tuck in the back of her blouse. Somehow he knew this scene had played out countless times in the past. Amanda could never have been a passing fancy. They must have cared deeply about each other for a very long time.

She nodded gratefully as she turned around to face him. "Lee," she started, but a resounding knock cut off her words.

"Come," he called when they both had smiles in place.

The door slowly opened, revealing two surprise guests. As he silently stared at the petite blonde woman and the miniature female at her side, he heard Amanda gasp.

"Mother," she managed to say. "How could you?"

"Poppy," screamed the little girl. With pigtails bouncing and sparkling sneakers flashing, she practically flew to his bedside.

He just sat there, dumbfounded. My God, Dotty West was actually paying him a call, with a toddler, no less. "Who's Poppy?" he asked to no one in particular. In shock, he watched the kid climb from the chair to the bed in five seconds flat.

"Poppy, I missed you," the tyke shouted as she flung two chubby arms around his neck in a death grip.

Amanda recovered first, moving quickly to release the child's stranglehold and to remove her shoes from the bed. "Lee, you remember my mother. And this adorable creature is my granddaughter, Mandy King. She's Phillip's little girl."

"My God, you have a granddaughter," he said in disbelief. Lee dared to take a peek at the smiling cherub, snuggled against his side. "What other surprises do you have in store for me?"

Amanda merely shrugged, looking as nervous as he felt.

Mandy reached up and cupped his face with both hands. "Poppy, do you 'member me? Nanny says you lost your mind."

"No, pumpkin," Amanda corrected in her most patient tone. "Poppy has a bump on the head that made him forget a few things." She gave Lee a pointed look, expertly conveying a silent message.

He understood. Grinning, he tweaked the little girl's nose. "Mandy, no one could forget you."

The child beamed like a ray of sunshine, and Amanda and her mother smiled their approval.

"You still know how to charm the ladies in your life," Dotty said as she crossed the room. Leaning over the bed, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I hope you're feeling better."

"Yes, ma'am, I am." Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, he finally remembered his manners. "Won't you sit down, Mrs. West. I'm sorry for my disorientation. My mind is still operating in a perpetual state of confusion."

"I understand, darling, but please call me Dotty. You may not recall, Lee, but you're like a son to me, and you're a grandfather figure to my great granddaughter."

"Is that so?" He shot Amanda a baffled look, but she was too busy glaring at her mother to notice.

Mandy tugged on his pajama top and pointed to the television suspended on the wall. "Poppy, let's watch Angelina Ballerina?"

"Angelina who?"

Ignoring his discomfiture, Amanda grabbed the remote and surfed through the channels. "Maybe one short program will settle her down."

"Phillip and Heather don't like Mandy to watch much television," Dotty explained. "They're adamant that we must abide by their rules. Honestly, when my grandson was a child, he went into severe withdrawal whenever we limited his television viewing. However, now that he's a father, Phillip thinks he's discovered the one eternal truth for successful childrearing."

Lee's mind struggled to catch up with the runaway ramble. Dotty's gift of gab exceeded her daughter's mastery of the art form.

"You know," Dotty continued, hardly taking a breath. "Human nature can be funny. Once people are converted to a new point of view, they feel it's their God given duty to inflict their opinion on others. Personally, I believe both adults and children can reap the benefits of quiet time in front of the television. Besides, I think grandparents and great-grandparents are entitled to loosen the reins a bit. Heaven knows, I let Phillip and Jamie get away with more than their mother allowed."

Lee nodded inanely, hoping her lecture didn't demand a response.

Mandy intently surveyed the program options as they flickered passed on the screen. "Stop, Nanny, there's Scooby Doo. Poppy likes Scooby." Then the little girl reached into the pocket of her pink bib overalls. "I brought you a present," she said as she thrust a shiny packet into his hand.

"Ah, thank you." Turning the offering over, Lee stared at the picture of the big brown dog and his assorted companions. Catching Amanda's eye, he silently pleaded for help.

"They're Scooby Doo gummies," Amanda pointed out. "They're your favorite television treat."

"Mine, too," Mandy said as she held out her hand.

Lee tore open the package and dropped a candy into her palm.

Mandy held up the treat. "See, it's Shaggy. He's a good guy. He drives a mystery van and stops crime."

"Shaggy sounds like my kind of man." Lee smiled and put his arm around the child. Maybe being saddled with a name like "Poppy" wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

**TBS**


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10: Birchwood – Friday, October 10**

Lee came out of physical therapy on his own two feet - well almost. Push, squeak, shuffle was his new mode of transporting himself from place to place. By sheer grit, he'd graduated to a walker with wheels. The damn apparatus screeched as he propelled it forward. Push, squeak, shuffle. Push, squeak, shuffle. His sturdy Rockport shoes joined the cacophony of noises as he moved at a slow pace down the corridor toward his room.

He wasn't allowed to navigate the hallways by himself, but, ignoring the rules, he managed to fake out the physical therapist. By the time she realized he was missing, he'd be long gone.

"Oh, Mr. Stetson," called the startled voice of his doctor.

Lee turned a little abruptly and teetered in place, chagrined that Dr. Hollingsworth had to reach out a hand to steady him. My God, in his prime, the legendary Scarecrow had scaled the high rafters of a European castle, dangled by his fingers from a rung of a whirling helicopter, and stopped an enemy agent with a flying tackle. He'd never imagined being put out to pasture with other Agency retirees while still serving his country as a highly respected intelligence operative and section chief.

Apparently reluctant to trust his patient, the doctor kept a firm grip on Lee's arm. "Well, this is surprise, Mr. Stetson. You've made fine progress. Since you've finished with your physical therapy ahead of schedule, let's squeeze in your counseling session now."

"Whatever." Lee sighed heavily as the psychiatrist led him down the hall. With a push, squeak, shuffle, he continued his humiliating journey. When it finally ended inside the doctor's office, Lee gave the walker a shove and sent it careening into the wall. If he could have his way, he'd gladly shove the damn thing right over a cliff.

Easing his charge onto the sofa, Dr. Hollingsworth took an opposite seat. Then pulling a pack of "Life Savers" from his breast pocket, he held the roll of candies in the meaty palm of his hand. "Would you care for one?"

"NO," Lee replied with all the finesse of a snarling Rottweiler.

"Well, sir, I see you have some pent-up aggression. Maybe we can talk about your frustrations."

Lee glared at his doctor. "Why don't you talk, and I'll listen. You're the one with the memories, right?"

The psychiatrist offered a placating smile and took the lead. "Mrs. King told me your recollections are improving daily."

"Yeah," he said, letting down his guard at the mere mention of his devoted colleague. "Amanda will say something that will trigger a memory, but then the details only come to me in bits and pieces."

Dr. Hollingsworth peered at him over the top of his glasses. "You two have known each other for a long time."

"We first met in October 1983."

"So, were you introduced to Amanda when she came to work for the Agency?"

"No, not exactly." Lee grinned as the fortuitous event snapped into focus. "We accidentally met at the train station. I was on a case and running from some Russians. I needed to get rid of a package they wanted, so when Amanda passed me on the platform, I thrust it into her hands and told her to get on the train and give it to the man in the red hat."

"And she followed the orders of a total stranger?"

"Incredibly, she did." Lee shook his head, startled by the clarity of the memory. "However, Amanda didn't get rid of the package. The passenger car was filled with men in red hats. Consequently, I had to track her down and try to get the damn thing back. There was one glitch after another. With Amanda King involved, nothing was ever simple. In the end though, she figured out what the Russians were up to, and she saved my hide."

Even the doctor looked amazed. "And thus began the saga of Scarecrow and Mrs. King."

"Yeah, who would have guessed?" Lee couldn't help but laugh. "Amanda was a complete ditz, but a natural born intelligence agent."

"You were pretty proud of her?"

"Humph, at the time, I wanted her to go back to the suburbs and forget she ever met me. In my opinion, our encounter was just a fluke. Our two vastly different worlds intersected out of necessity, but once the case concluded, I never wanted to see her again."

"Obviously, it wasn't the end. She went on to become your partner."

"Yes, my superior, Billy Melrose, saw potential and kept her on as a civilian employee. To my initial dismay, he persisted in pairing us together. In time we became a solid team."

"Apparently you grew to be friends."

"Yeah, we did." Lee paused, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, already dreading where the train of thought may be heading. "Amanda told me yesterday that we became best friends. I don't remember forming such a tight bond. It's funny; I have some vivid memories of our first two years together, but then recollections of Amanda get very fuzzy."

"Do you think something changed in your relationship?"

Lee shrugged. "Like what?"

"Did you considering dating Amanda?"

"No, not that I can remember." The old Stetson defenses went on high alert. "Sometimes we went to dinner after a case, but the encounters were purely platonic."

Lee paused as flashes of a beautiful Amanda, dressed in a black evening gown, danced on the periphery of his mind. Nervously, he cleared his throat. "The very nature of our work meant we were constantly thrown together as a couple - dances at embassies, assignments in England, Germany and Austria. There was often some romantic setting that made it feel like we were dating."

"So, did you feel a sexual tension between the two of you?"

Lee balked, feeling damn sure he didn't want to lay bare such personal feelings. "You don't beat around the bush do you, Doc?" With no reply forthcoming, he weighed the dynamics of Scarecrow and Mrs. King. "Yeah, I was aware of a spark. However, with Amanda, there was no such thing as casual romance. While sometimes I detected some vibes, she was very discreet in my presence. And, too, I was more than happy to suppress any twinges of attraction."

Dr. Hollingsworth eyed him casually. "So, did you ever try to turn things up a notch?"

"Humph," Lee shook his head at the notion. "Take it from me, Doc, the proper Mrs. King had tunnel vision when it came to commitment and marriage. In her book, a trip to the bedroom must be preceded by a trip to the altar. Going undercover as a married couple was particularly difficult; Amanda didn't want to share a room, much less a bed. Once, when we pretended to be newlyweds, she asked me to have management send up a roll-away cot. On that exasperating occasion, rather than blow our cover, I ended up spending the night in the maid's closest."

The doctor smiled. "But, over time, did she ever let her guard down?"

Reluctant to say anymore, Lee ran nervous fingers over his short crop of hair. Why did shrinks have to concern themselves with personal business? With a heavy sigh, he continued. "Yesterday, Amanda admitted we became romantically involved at some point. I don't have any idea how that could have happened. She wasn't the type of woman I usually dated, and, I wasn't the kind of guy she could take home to her family. Besides, Amanda was my partner; we needed to keep our personal lives separate from our professional lives."

"What kind of women have you preferred over the years?"

Lee bent forward, his arms resting on his wide-spread knees as his mind dredged up more confidential information. "I gravitated toward women who wanted a good time with no strings attached."

"So, you didn't want a future with any of them?"

Lee merely grunted as old demons came to mind. "Unfortunately, when I was a young man, I dropped my defenses a couple of times and allowed myself to become emotionally involved. In both instances, the relationships ended in disaster."

Dr. Hollingsworth nodded, waiting patiently for Lee to resume his story.

Haunted by an overwhelming memory, Lee could barely say the words. "At the age of twenty-four, I became very close to a female colleague. Our relationship was on the verge of something more than friendship when the Agency recruited us for a special assignment." Pausing he cleared his throat and struggled to continue. "As it turned out, we had a mole in the network . . . and things went down hard. She was hit by enemy fire . . . and, ah, died in my arms." Shaking his head, Lee tried to block the unspeakable images. "It was the first time I ever saw someone killed like that."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I am, too. Dorothy was special." For a long moment, Lee averted his eyes, remembering his desperate efforts to breathe life back into her as she died in a field strewn with roses. Then struggling to push words passed the lump in his throat, he forced himself to share more of his tragic history.

"Unfortunately, my other emotional involvement was an even bigger mistake. I actually let myself fall in love and consider marrying a member of the KGB. Of course, at the time I didn't realize her connection, but she played me for a fool. She would have killed me, too, if Amanda hadn't wised up and removed the bullets from the Russian's gun."

"Amanda to the rescue again," the doctor said with amazement. "She always seems to be looking out for your best interests."

"Yeah," Lee said as a smile tugged at his lips. "She's apparently been a valuable friend and colleague over the years. The more I'm around her now, the more I realize how much I need her in my life."

Dr. Hollingsworth raised his brow, but chose not to comment further on the housewife turned spy. "So, you sometimes enjoy close friendships, but you ruled out marriage and children a long time ago."

"It was a smart decision," Lee said as he squared his shoulders in his own defense. "I couldn't see myself as a husband and father. At heart, I was a loner raised by a career military, bachelor uncle. The Colonel considered me his duty, much like one of the recruits. My parents died when I was five years old, so I had very few memories of family life."

"What do you remember about Amanda's family?"

"Not much. In the early days, she talked about her mother and two sons, but I only saw them through the kitchen window. After work, when I needed to discuss something with Amanda, I'd stand on her back patio and wait for her to come out and talk. It was written in stone that Lee Stetson would not meet Dotty West and the boys. For the safety of her family, we both felt it was best if I remained in the shadows."

"Well, apparently you did meet her family. Jamie and Phillip King brought you some furniture the other day, and I understand Amanda's mother and granddaughter stopped by to see you." The doctor smiled and shook his head. "Mrs. West did some major arm twisting to muscle her way into your room."

Lee laughed. "It seems pretty clear to me that no one should get on the wrong side of Mrs. West, but I still don't remember actually meeting her before yesterday. I don't recall meeting Phillip and Jamie either, but the guys certainly knew me when they showed up with the furniture and pictures. Apparently I was included in a number of family events." Lee shook his head in disbelief. "Hell, I don't remember any of the occasions."

"Obviously, you mean a lot to Amanda's family."

"Yes, I'm getting that impression. However, it makes no sense. On the one hand, she claims we became best friends, but, on the other hand, Amanda says she married again. Shouldn't her husband be her best friend?" Lee paused and shook his head at the incongruity. "I'm not the kind of guy who'd be comfortable hanging out with Amanda's family, especially if she had a husband and three more kids to add to the mix."

"Has she told you much about her husband?"

"Almost nothing," Lee said in a caustic tone. Balling his hands into fists, he fought down the jealousy that set his teeth on edge. Then taking a deep breath, he pressed on. "She only mentioned being separated from her husband. I don't know who the guy is and, at this point, I don't give a damn. I'm still reeling from the news that Amanda has two more sons and a daughter." He paused with a loud harrumph. "And why the hell does she still call herself Amanda King?"

The doctor waited patiently for Lee to compose himself. "It seems fair to surmise that only a special man should marry a woman with a ready-made family and a career in espionage."

"Damn right; Amanda's not a normal person. And apparently the guy couldn't take it, or he'd be living with the family."

"Okay, let's leave the husband out of the equation. Given your friendship with the King family, do you feel protective toward them?"

Lee bristled at the question. God, the shrink was blindsiding him at every turn. "Yeah, I've always felt protective of Amanda and her family. It's part of my nature to take care of people. Being a defender is what I'm all about."

Dr. Hollingsworth nodded, resting a hand on his cheek in a contemplative pose. "How would you feel if you were truly responsible for the King family, and then an assailant tried to use them to get to you?"

"I'd never forgive myself."

"I see," the doctor said, pausing for a beat. "And how would you feel if Amanda and her children were in grave danger because of your enemies, but, despite your best efforts, you couldn't save them?"

Lee slumped in his seat, repulsed by appalling visions - gunshots, kidnappings, explosions, crashes. Every possible scenario ran like a loop in his brain. "I'd gladly die in their place," he said as his hands began to shake uncontrollably. "They would be better off if they'd never met me."

"And would you be better off if you'd never met them?"

"Yes," he answered, choking on the word. "I can't bear to lose another person I truly care about."

Dr. Hollingsworth came to stand by Lee, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I think we've covered a lot of ground today. Apparently we've touched a very painful nerve."

* * *

**SMK, SMK, SMK**

Lee missed lunch, but it was fine with him; he wasn't ready to see anyone, especially Fred Fielder. Thankfully, Amanda had a dentist appointment and hadn't shown up yet, even though it was almost three o'clock. The round of counseling had left him exhausted and depressed, so all he wanted to do was shut out the world.

Why the hell did the doctor have to drudge up emotions about his past relationships? God, there were valid reasons he chose the single life. So what if never married or had children. At least there was no one to worry about, no one to lose, and no one to mourn when life fell apart.

Stretching out on the bed and turning on his side, he kept his back toward the door. If anyone came in, he'd appear to be sleeping. Sure enough, not a half hour went by before he heard footsteps approaching his room. Shutting his eyes, he waited for the inevitable.

"This is the room," Dr. Hollingsworth said in his deep booming voice. "Good luck, boys. Remember what we talked about."

"Thanks," called the high pitched voice of a kid.

"We won't tell him," another child promised as if taking a sacred oath.

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by a long pause and a louder knock. Lee lay perfectly still, determined to ignore the visitors. Maybe they'd give up and go away.

No such luck. The door groaned on its hinges as someone pushed it open. Then rubber soled shoes squeaked across the linoleum.

"Is he awake?"

"I think he's sleeping."

Damn it. Lee held his breath, hoping the intruders would take the hint and leave. Dr. Hollingsworth must have pointed them to the wrong room and now the kids were mistaking him for someone else.

A finger poked him in the back. God, he couldn't believe the nerve. Then a body leaned over him, apparently listening to him breathe.

"I told you, he's asleep, bird brain."

"Well, let's go, dog breath. Mom's going to kill us if she finds out we're here."

"Yeah, but Grandma dropped us off. She'll fix things with Mom. Besides, the doctor said it was a good idea."

"Fine, we'll sit and wait." There was a mild scuffle as the two competed for the comfortable armchair. The loser could be heard stomping across the room to the molded plastic chair by the bed.

Great, just great, they're staying. Lee stifled a silent moan. Now who the hell were bird brain, dog breath, Grandma, and Mom? Still feigning sleep, he came to the only logical conclusion. These two kids had to be Amanda's twin sons. Good grief, he must know them pretty well, too.

"Maybe, he won't want to see us," a small voice whispered from across the room.

"Be quiet. If you wake him up, he really will be ticked. You know what a bear he is when someone disturbs his sleep."

Lee rolled over, more curious than angry. "Hello, guys."

"Da . . . ." The sandy haired kid jumped to his feet, all but stumbling over the untied shoelaces that dangled from high top sneakers. "Ah, hi," the boy managed to say, clasping nervous hands behind his back.

The dark haired kid hopped on the end of the bed, his skinny legs dangling from a pair of cargo shorts. Brushing long bangs from his eyes, the boy's intense brown eyes seemed to search for answers. "Do you know us?"

"Well, I figured out you must be Amanda's sons, but no, I'm afraid I don't remember you. A whole chunk of my memory is still missing in action." Lee watched as they exchanged glances, both appearing a bit disappointed. "But, hey, maybe you can help jog things a bit."

The bigger kid brightened immediately, flashing an irrepressible grin. "I'm Matt."

"And, I'm Robby," the smaller boy said, holding out his hand.

Lee accepted the handshake, scanning the familiar features. "You look just like your mom." Then turning to the brother, he noted the fair hair and eyes. "I suppose you look like your dad."

Matt's mouth dropped open in surprise. "Yeah, I do. I got his big hands and feet to prove it."

"And his temper," Robby added, poking his brother.

Lee grinned. "I've been told you're twins. How old are you?"

"Thirteen," Matt said, puffing out his chest with pride.

"Yeah," Robby added with a dimpled smile. "We just celebrated our birthday on the twelfth of August."

A strange sense of déjà vu washed over Lee, but the fleeting awareness eluded him. "So, tell me about the last thing we did together?"

"You don't remember?" Robby's eyes darkened with alarm as he shot his brother a wary glance. "I don't think we're allowed to talk about it."

"Oh?" Lee pinned the boys with a penetrating gaze, realizing he could probably coax the truth from them. "I guess you can't bend the rules, even a little."

"I don't mind breaking a rule or two - when it really matters." Matt ran a shaky hand through his hair, before taking a hesitant step forward. "You see, we were all together. . ."

Robby glared at his brother. "Matty, shut up."

"You, shut up."

"Guys, don't talk that way," Lee said, feeling like he was taking a page out of Amanda King's parenting book.

"Sorry." Matt grumbled. Squaring his shoulders he moved toward the bed with renewed determination. "The last time we were together, we were leaving Bar Harbor, Maine, and we stopped to take in the view from Cadillac Mountain."

"I traveled with your family?" Perplexed, Lee shook his head.

"Yeah, you were with all of us, even Phillip and Jamie and their wives and Mandy." Matt diverted his gaze, shooting his brother a guilty look. "I mean, why not? We're all pretty close."

"So it would seem," Lee said with amazement. "Then what happened?"

"We were headed home," Robby added, apparently ready to abandon his scruples. "We were in the van with you when it crashed."

"What?" Lee sat up quickly, feeling an immense stab of pain shoot through his body. "The doctors told me I was in an automobile accident, but they didn't say anyone was with me. My God, are you all right?"

"Now I am, but I did crack a couple of ribs and break my arm." Matt pushed up the sleeve of his over-sized polo shirt and pointed to his left forearm. "The cast came off last week, so I'm playing soccer again."

Robby held back his bangs, revealing a jagged pink scar. "I had eight stitches along the hairline." Then he pulled at the neck of his UVA sweatshirt. "Oh, and I broke my collarbone, too."

"And that's not all," Matt bragged as if sporting a badge of honor. "We both had concussions."

"Oh, boys, that's awful." Lee shook his head at their litany of injuries, already placing blame squarely on his own shoulders. Then staring passed Matty and Robby, his throat convulsed with horror as he tried to recall the momentous day.

Closing his eyes against a rush of emotion, a kaleidoscope of visions came to the fore, and forgotten memories pushed toward consciousness. In his mind's eye, he saw the first rays of sun peeking over a shimmering ocean, and he felt the biting wind assaulting his body while he stood on an unprotected mountaintop.

He wasn't alone in his revelation. Fuzzy figures took center stage in his mind - two young boys teasing each other mercilessly, a dark-haired girl storming off in anger, a slender woman pressing her frame against his body, two young couples exchanging jokes before climbing into vehicles, and a smiling baby girl waving good-bye from a parking lot.

My God, he pictured himself in the midst of Amanda's family, surrounded by their love and support. Was it true or just a fantasy? Before his brain could process the vision, the images began to fade from sight. Instead, danger threatened as he saw himself behind the wheel of a runaway vehicle. Immediately fear chilled his soul, and the fateful event came back in an overwhelming moment of perfect clarity.

_Majestic scenery rushed past as he drove a silver minivan down a winding, steep mountain road. Picking up momentum, he applied the brakes, but the pedal wouldn't reduce the speed. Pumping his foot to the floor, he desperately tried to slow their descent. _

_Rounding a hairpin curve, the tires squealed and terrified screams erupted from the backseat. "Hang on, guys," he yelled to the boys. Clutching the wheel with a death grip, he laid on the horn, hoping to alert the other drivers. Weaving back and forth over the yellow line, on-coming cars swerved out of his way as he zigzagged over the roadway._

_Frantically, he searched for a clearing of brush to slow the runaway van. Wherever he looked, he saw nothing but solid rock, dense trees, and steep mountain cliffs._

_Suddenly, a large pick-up truck crossed the center line. In some macabre game of "chicken," the driver aimed his vehicle at the minivan. "Brace for impact," Lee yelled to the boys as both vehicles swerved, narrowly averting a head-on collision._

_In desperation, he steered off the opposite side of the road. Lumbering across the shoulder and rough terrain, his vehicle skidded through the drive-through overlook and bounced over a slight rise._

_The deafening cries of the kids roared in his ears as the van went airborne before slamming again onto the unforgiving earth. Still in motion, they careened toward the mountain's edge and a hopeless free fall. Out of options, Lee steered them toward a massive boulder, in a last ditch effort to stop their descent into the abyss. _

_With a bone-crushing jolt they crashed, the van's front passenger side crumbling on impact. Flashes of his lovely Agency partner passed before him as he flew out the driver side door and plunged toward oblivion._

"Aaaah," he yelled as the shocking images faded. "I remember." Shaking his head at the vivid recall, Lee kept his eyes averted while waiting for his labored breathing to slow. "God, I'm so sorry," he finally said to the boys as they stood like brave little soldiers, ready to serve in any way they could. "I can't believe Amanda's children nearly died on my watch."

Robby reached over, running a soothing hand along his arm, in a gesture so much like Amanda's mode of comfort. "It wasn't your fault."

"Nobody could have kept the car on the road as long as you did," Matt said, his voice thick with pride.

Gazing at the innocent faces of Amanda's sons, Lee felt his body tremble. Despite his firm resolve to hold past demons at bay, the old terror took hold, and festering emotional wounds reopened. Years of anxiety, sadness, and remorse spilled from his soul as he mourned the family and colleagues he'd lost. With his chest tightening like a vise, silent sobs shook his frame.

Immediately, the boys encircled him, throwing their arms around him with abandon. Robby's voice was laced with tears. "It's okay," he cried. "We're all okay."

"You're the best," Matt said, choking on the words. "Somehow you saved all of us from plunging over the cliff."

Lee hugged them close, cataloging the familiar scent and feel of their youthful bodies. My God, in the surreal moment of emotional agony, the boys seemed like they belonged to him.

Slowly they disengaged, and Lee held them at arms' length, really studying them for the first time – the sandy blonde and brunette hair, the hazel and brown eyes, the long fingers and the dimpled cheeks. Only Scarecrow and Mrs. King could produce twins with the distinct features and personalities of Matt and Robby. With the realization firmly in mind, more memories began the rush to consciousness – premature baby boys, precocious kindergartners, earnest cub scouts, and avid little leaguers. "Well, guys," he finally said, his voice rough with emotion. "I think I have you figured out."

"You do?" they asked in tandem, hope etched on their young faces.

Lee pointed at Matty. "You're Matthew Lee Stetson." And then he tagged Robby. "And you're Robert William Stetson. In my book, that makes you my sons."

"Dad," they cried as they flung themselves into his arms once again.

Squeezing them against his chest, Lee could scarcely believe his good fortune. He was a father. Then new questions hit him like a thunderbolt. Did he have a daughter, too? And, as incomprehensible as it seemed, could Amanda King actually be his wife?

As if on cue, he spied her standing in the doorway.

Studying him intently, Amanda's eyes locked with his. "Oh, Lee, you've recognized our sons," she said as tears of happiness rolled down her cheeks. "In my book, that makes you my husband."

Suddenly their wedding day and the birth of Jennifer Grace Stetson snapped into place. Twenty-one years of marriage flashed before him. "For all the days of our lives," he said as he remembered promises made and kept. Releasing the boys, he slid from the bed and braced his unsteady legs against the frame. Then taking a tentative step forward, he stretched out his waiting arms.

Amanda rushed across the room, her face radiant with unbridled joy.

Dissolving into each other's embrace, he buried his face against her neck. "God, I'm the luckiest man alive."

* * *

**TBS **


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11: Birchwood – October 10 – Friday 6:00 p.m.**

Late into the afternoon, Lee clasped his wife's hand - long after Dotty came back for the twins and way past the visits from his stepsons and Dr. Hollingsworth. Everyone was thrilled with his major breakthrough. Once the emotional block crumbled, concealed memories poured out of hiding.

For hours, his excitement had soared higher than a hot air balloon as he reveled in his family's laughter and stories. Eager to show them strides in his recovery, he'd summoned the surge of adrenaline to practice his walking, first with a walker and then with a cane. His family had cheered him on as he completed yet another important milestone.

Now exhausted, he simply lay with his head against the pillow, watching the evening shadows play across the lovely features of his wife.

Amanda smiled at him. "Are you ready to call our daughter?"

Lee nodded, a bit nervous about breaking the news over the phone. "I'd rather tell Jenny in person, but I don't want to wait several days."

Amanda punched in the number and smiled when Jennifer picked up. "Hi, sweetie," she said, happiness clearly evident in her voice. "How's your trip?" Putting the phone on speaker, she let Lee listen in.

"Hi, Mom, it's going great. We saw some lovely campuses, but I didn't realize gas drilling may be taking over the state. I don't want to spend four years worrying about the air I breathe and the water I drink."

"Well, that is a concern, Jen," Amanda said with a look of relief for her husband. Hesitating, she beckoned to Lee. "Jen, I have a surprise for you. Your dad would like to say hello."

"Oh, really?" Jenny's voice sounded surprised and reluctant.

"Hi, princess," Lee said, his voice choked with emotion.

There was a moment of silence and then a sniffle. "Daddy, do you remember me?"

"I do, Jen. My memories came flooding back today. Now I have vivid recall of my beautiful brunette daughter who's about to celebrate her eighteenth birthday. I hope to be home in time for the big event."

"Oh, Dad," she cried. "I wish I was there with you tonight. It seems like I've waited forever for this moment."

"Hey, I'm sorry I frightened my children and made your mother feel like an annoying colleague, but that's behind us now. I remember everything about my family and how much I love all of you."

"Oh my gosh, Dad, did the doctors give you electric shock treatment or something?"

"Actually your twin brothers surprised everyone by showing up today. When I heard them bickering with each other, pieces of the puzzle started falling into place."

Jenny's glee practically bubbled from the phone. "And you mean you still want us?"

"Absolutely," he said, a wide grin spreading across his face. "The Stetson kids can argue all they want. It's a healing balm to me." His laughter mingled with Jenny's as Amanda wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close.

"So what are you doing, tonight, Jen?" he asked, taking a tentative step toward reasserting his role as a father.

"Oh, we're attending a lecture in Williamsport."

"What kind of lecture?" Amanda inquired, trying to gather more information.

"Oh, you know, the speaker will talk about the environment."

Amanda exchanged worried looks with Lee. "Jenny, I hope the topic isn't too controversial," she said. "Tempers are running high over hydraulic fracturing. Who is the speaker?"

"Does it matter, Mom?"

"Yes, Jennifer, it matters," Lee said, his fingers tapping nervously on the nightstand.

Jenny sighed. "It's Dr. Malcolm Jessup."

"Dr. Jessup," they said in tandem.

"Stop worrying, you two. It's just a presentation. Besides, I won't be alone."

"I hope the Bronsons are going with you," Amanda said, her right hand fidgeting in her lap.

"Kristen's going," Jenny replied in a rush. "Sorry, I have to cut you short, Mom and Dad, but I have to run. Nate just arrived."

"Nate," they both said in alarm.

"Yes, he came down from Boston. Dad, I'm so glad you're better. Love you both. Bye."

"Jenny, wait," they yelled, but she'd already hung up.

Lee put his head back on the pillow, an old anxiety taking hold. "So there's another valid reason why my mind chose to forget family life."

"Yes, a daughter on the cusp of leaving home was your chief concern for months." Sitting on the edge of the bed, Amanda took his hand. "As much as we don't want to let her go, we have to give her space," she said with a sigh.

"A-man-da." he complained between clenched teeth. "I may be a little foggy on the details, but I distinctly remember crossing paths with Dr. Jessup and the Kearsely pair before someone brought the hammer down on our family. Jenny shouldn't be going anywhere near them."

"Things have been changing, sweetheart. Dr. Jessup, Jean, and Nate left the safe house weeks ago. However, I'd better call Francine. She needs to know what Jenny's up to now."

Lee slammed his fist on the rolling tray table. "Dammit, if I wasn't doing time in an old folks' prison, I'd drive up there and get her myself."

"Calm down, Lee. Francine can send protection faster than either of us could drive there. Besides, we need to trust Jenny's judgment. She's grown up a lot since your near-fatal crash. If she senses danger, she'll leave the lecture."

* * *

**Birchwood – October 10, Friday evening – 8:30.**

Lee studied his wife as she tried to reach their daughter for the third time that evening. "Still no answer?"

"No, but if Jenny's attending a lecture, her cell phone is probably turned off." Sitting with her arm around her husband, Amanda glanced at the clock. "It's getting late. I should be heading home." She left his side to turn on the brass table lamp and straighten up the room.

"Don't go," he pleaded, knowing his request was unrealistic. However, he was more than ready to grovel if it would prevent her from leaving. "I can't bear to be alone tonight. I want you snuggled by my side."

"Sweetheart, I don't want to abandon you, but it's not practical for me to spend the night. Besides, now that your adrenaline rush is wearing off, I can see the weariness and pain in your eyes. You need a good night's sleep."

"You're right." He said nothing more, letting his best pout do the talking for him.

Within seconds she relented. "Okay, we'll see, but let me ask some questions at the nurses' station before I make a decision."

Lee's heart swelled with anticipation as he watched her go, quiet and graceful like a deer in their country meadow. God, he couldn't wait to go home to their heaven on earth. Together they'd created a sanctuary - a safe haven to protect Phillip and Jamie through their high school and college years, a refuge to raise their daughter and twin sons in harmony, and now a retreat for their granddaughter to visit.

His musings were interrupted when his beloved wife poked her head around the door. She had a teasing smile on her face. "You'll never believe this, but the nurses gave me a "Do Not Disturb" sign, extra towels, a pillow, and a toothbrush."

"Are you kidding? God, I can't believe the night duty nurses actually bent the rules."

"Yes, and they offered me a cot. I thought I'd better accept one for appearance sake. After all, I don't want to seem too bold. What must they think?"

"Who cares what they think?" He flashed his best dimpled grin and laughed when she blushed.

Going to the far side of the bed, Amanda fussed with the twisted covers. "Well, I didn't want to announce to the night shift that I intend to crawl under the sheets with my husband."

"Yes, but that's the whole idea."

"I know, Lee, but it's against policy for visitors to even sit on the bed, so that certainly excludes sleeping, don't you think? After all, the beds aren't queens. However, we're both thin, right? You lost a lot of weight after the accident, so you don't take up a lot of space. And, too, I don't weigh much more than when we first met. Of course, there are a few extra pounds since the twins were born, but not much. I still work out, you know. Well, of course you know. You have your memory back."

"Amanda, please." He shook his head at her nervous ramble.

When she finally arranged the covers to her satisfaction, she studied her black slacks and red angora sweater. "Lee, I don't have a thing to wear to bed. I can't sleep in my street clothes."

"Amanda, take them off."

"No, what if someone sees me?"

"God, Amanda. Would you relax, this isn't our wedding night at the Crystal Springs Inn."

"I know that, Lee."

"And this isn't an assignment from 1984. You're not getting in bed with, Scarecrow. You're getting in bed with your husband."

"Well, of course."

"And it's doubtful we'll be having a hot time in the old nursing home tonight. I don't know what to expect so soon after brain surgery. Don't you think it would be wonderful to just hold each other?"

"Yes, that would be very nice."

Pointing to his pajamas, still folded on the tray table, he offered her a solution. "Maybe, we can share. Do you want tops or bottoms?"

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed a pajama top and headed for the bathroom.

While she was gone, he reached for his half of the pair, proud that he could now shed his sweats and wiggle into the pajama bottoms by himself. Thank God, he'd made great strides today. Finally, he was beginning to feel more like a whole man and less like an invalid.

Settling back against the pillow, he heard a knock on the door. "So much for the 'Do Not Disturb' sign," he mumbled to himself. Bracing for an intruder, he called out a response. "Come on in."

A man from maintenance rolled in a cot. "Where do you want the bed?"

"I don't want the damn thing, but if you must leave it, stick it by the closet." Lee shook his head at the annoyance. Hell, after twenty-one years of marriage, Amanda was still fixated on rollaway beds.

The guy was no sooner gone, when Lee heard another rap on the door. "What now," he grumbled with disgust. He was more than ready to go for the jugular of the next person to breach his domain.

A white-coated figure stepped into the room, her three-inch heels clicking nosily across the floor. "Hello, Mr. Stetson," the forty-something blonde said with a bright lilt to her voice. "I'm Dr. Lori McGraw, the attending physician for the next two nights. I don't believe we've met."

"Ah, hi," Lee responded, trying to clear the hoarseness from his gravely throat. His eyes darted warily from the tall, curvy physician toward the closed bathroom door. Feeling oddly embarrassed, he pulled the sheet more securely over his exposed chest.

The physician laughed and placed her reading glasses on the end of her nose. "Don't look so scared. I don't bite."

"I'm not scared," he protested. "Don't you doctors ever get tired of making royal nuisances of yourselves?"

"I was warned about the temperamental silver fox from the Agency," she teased. "Scarecrow's reputation has practically become a legend in the intelligence community. Your stories rival the fables of 'King Arthur and the Knights of the Roundtable'. Maybe I should call you Sir Lancelot."

"Spare me." Lee shot the beauty a contemptuous look and then shifted his focus to the bathroom door. Maybe, with a little luck, Amanda would remain out of the picture.

Dr. McGraw turned serious, careful to put her professionalism in place. Taking the end of the sheet from his hand, she pulled it down to his abdomen. "I need to check you over. From what I heard, you've had a strenuous day."

As Lee opened his mouth to object, the doctor slapped the cold stethoscope on his bare chest, causing him to yelp loudly. "Hey."

Ignoring his discomfiture, she moved the instrument around his chest in an orderly fashion. Then claiming his arm, she took his blood pressure and checked his pulse. "Your heart rate is up; apparently you overdosed on excitement. Something special must have your heart going pitter patter at race car speed?" The sound of a creaking door distracted the doctor from her speech, and she turned toward the interruption.

"Lee, I can't find a hair dryer," called the familiar raspy voice. "I'll have to come to bed with a wet head."

Leave it to his wife to pick the inopportune moment to back her way out of the bathroom. Even worse, she was comically dressed in his pajama top. Too late, Amanda noticed the doctor. "Oh my gosh," she said, looking like a deer caught in the beam of headlights.

Lee shook his head at her elfin appearance. How was he going to explain his way out of their costume party? Extending his hand in a dramatic fashion, he prepared to introduce his guest. "Dr. McGraw, the lovely brunette making her grand entrance is my Guinevere."

The doctor's finely sculptured eyebrows disappeared under her neatly trimmed bangs. "Mr. Stetson, the legends of Scarecrow don't begin to do you justice. This is rather untoward behavior for an acute care nursing wing. I don't know who gave you the green light for your pajama game, but administration will have to be informed of your activities."

"Hell, not another rule follower." Lee groaned as his head dropped back against the pillow.

Amanda rushed to make amends. "Hello, I assume Lee mentioned I'm spending the night."

"No," the doctor said rather coolly. "As a matter of fact, he managed to conceal your presence completely."

"Hey," an outraged Lee complained. "I didn't have a chance to explain our situation. Doctor McGraw was too busy poking and prodding me."

Amanda sighed in resignation. "Well," she said in a tentative voice, "the nurses thought a little tender loving care was in order for tonight." Locating her fingers under the long pajama sleeve, she pointed at the folded-up rollaway in the corner of room. "See, they even offered me a cot." Smiling weakly, she tugged on the hem of the pajama top, trying in vain to stretch the garment to her knees.

The doctor merely shook her head, before consulting Lee's chart. "Are you by any chance Amanda King, Mr. Stetson's nursing assistant?"

"Yes, but I'm also Lee's wife." Amanda held her head high with an air of propriety. "I'm sure you can appreciate our circumstances. Today my husband miraculously remembered his marriage - a pesky detail that eluded him for nearly seven weeks."

"And so, you want to celebrate," Dr. McGraw said, with a pointed look at her patient. "Believe me, I do understand. However, we do have rules. Mr. Stetson may have a lot of clout at the Agency, but even he can't manipulate the policies at Birchwood."

"We need to be together tonight," Amanda said, defending their scheme. "A rollaway bed in the room should not be a big deal." Putting on her brightest smile, she crossed the room and went to work on the cot. Unhooking the latch, she attempted to unfold the contraption. However, no sooner did one end lay flat, when the whole bed slammed shut. Working on the opposite side, the crazy thing tricked her again.

Lee beckoned to his wife. "Come here," he said, pulling back the covers. With all the dignity she could muster, Amanda slid in beside him, obviously crowding the space.

Dr. McGraw shook her head. "You two have to be kidding. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to see the bed isn't large enough for both of you."

Lee glared at the doctor. "Take it from me, Amanda and I have shared tighter quarters over the years."

"Maybe so," Dr. McGraw replied tersely, "but not under these circumstances. Must I state the obvious? You're recovering from brain surgery."

"The doctor's right," Amanda said, swinging her long, bare legs over the edge of the bed. "I'll ask maintenance for another cot."

"No you won't." Lee grabbed his wife's arm and held her in place. "That will be all, Doc." Pointing toward the door, he dismissed the physician. "Thanks for stopping by. On your way out, please close the privacy curtain and turn out the light."

Dr. McGraw sighed in resignation. "Well, you two will certainly go down in the annals of Birchwood history as our most notorious couple." Shaking her head, she pulled the curtain into position and flipped the switch, casting them into darkness. "Pleasant dreams to you both."

"We're alone at last." Lee heaved a sigh of relief and pulled Amanda close against his solid frame.

She pillowed her head on his shoulder. "Dr. McGraw's visit was worse than having the maid in our room on our wedding night."

He laughed as he wrapped his arms around her. "Yes, and on that occasion, I was recovering from a gunshot wound that grazed my ribs. We still managed to have a stellar wedding night."

"Well, the obstacles may slow us down, but they never stop us." Laying a delicate hand upon his chest, Amanda's fingers drew sensuous circles over his skin. "Does this jog your memory?"

"Definitely," he responded, shivering at her touch. "Let's see what else my body remembers." Then leaning in, he meshed his lips with hers, savoring each heady sensation that led them down a path toward deeper intimacy. Exploring the contours of her mouth and stroking her velvet skin, he reveled in the amazing twist of fate. Today he'd banished the demons of despair and found love renewed, joy reborn, and hope restored.

Amanda met his kiss with a sweet tenderness that belied a hunger long repressed. Like a tentative newlywed, her supple lips were soft and gentle as they moved over his mouth and across his cheek. Then, sliding her hands along his frame, she took possession of plains and hollows held hostage for far too long.

He sighed as her soft caresses played like a silent melody, soothing his raw emotions and aching need. Relaxing into her touch, he allowed her fingers to work their magic on a body still racked with pain.

"Are you getting sleepy?" Amanda asked as she stilled her roving hand.

A smile spread across his face. "Not really. Your touch is a potent wake-up call."

"Oh!"

"Let me show you." Wrapping long arms around his beloved wife, he pulled her against his solid form. Then reclaiming her lips once more, he poured all his pent-up longing into the kiss. With heart pounding, he pulled back to whisper against her ear. "How was that?"

"Wow," Amanda said, summing up their passion with one dynamic word. "You're making a dramatic recovery."

"You, my love, are a powerful potion." Then, tucking her gently beneath his hard body, he continued the prelude to sweet surrender.

* * *

**TBS**


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Pennsylvania Assembly Hall: Friday Night – 9:30**

Nate led the way through the crowded assembly hall and staked out standing-room-only space along the back wall. "Sorry we're late," he said to the girls. "I gave you lousy directions."

"At least we didn't miss out entirely on Dr. Jessup's presentation." Jenny smiled up at Nate as he took her hand and entwined their fingers together. Pressing her cheek against the shoulder of his leather jacket, she sighed with contentment. His strong calm presence buffered some of the animosity she detected from a few hostile protestors.

Her loyal friend, Kristen, linked arms and whispered in her ear. "It appears the whole county turned out tonight, and some of the natives don't look very happy. I hope they behave themselves."

"Don't worry," Jenny said, trying to reassure the skittish redhead as well as herself. "Dr. Jessup has an excellent reputation for keeping crowds under control."

The subject was fracking, and clearly the audience was divided. On the left side of the room, signs were waved, inscribed with phrases like "Drill Baby Drill," and "Shale on," and "Pass Gas". On the opposite side, people held up posters reading "No Drill, No Spill," and "Don't Frack With My Water," and "Fracking Poisons the Community."

With the microphone in his hand, Dr. Jessup was perched on a tall stool as he tried to bring order to the crowd. Apparently, he'd already given his speech and was now opening the discussion to the floor. "Please, everyone," he said. "We can allow plenty of time to share our views, but only if we take turns speaking. Many of you are life-long friends and neighbors, so you owe each other the courtesy of being heard."

Hands flew into the air as people stopped shouting over each other.

Dr. Jessup pointed to a rough-hewn man who humbly rose to his feet and addressed the group. "I'm a third-generation farmer, and I have struggled for years to stay a step ahead of foreclosure. Recently, I learned my farm sits on top of the Marcellus Shale. The untapped gas may be my salvation. By leasing my land to the natural gas industry, I can pay off my debts and send my boys to college."

"That's right," a weathered old man added. "Leasing my farmland allows me to pay my wife's cancer bills. Now we can leave farming and move south. I'm too old to run a farm anymore."

Nate waved a hand and caught Dr. Jessup's eye. "What about the people who have to remain in the area? The blessings of the leasers become a curse for their neighbors. They'll be stuck with pollution, and the value of their homes will drop tremendously."

"No one will buy my home," a young mother shouted, not waiting for the microphone. "So much methane and toxic chemicals have seeped into our well, that we can't drink, bathe, wash clothes, or cook with our tap water. Now we have to buy clean water and have it trucked to our house at our own expense. How would you like to have a five hundred galloon 'Water Buffalo' sitting on your front lawn?"

Another woman leaped to her feet. "There have always been methane and toxic metals underground, long before the drilling companies arrived. You can't prove your contamination came from the fracking."

The young mother balanced a baby on her hip and jutted out her jaw in anger. "If we can get the Environmental Protection Agency to do its job, we'll prove our well is being contaminated by fracking. The state's department of environmental protection also needs to pay attention to the unfiltered fracking waste water that's ending up in some streams and rivers."

Clearly nervous, a young couple stood up. "We moved to Pennsylvania three years ago to start an organic farm," the man said. "Now with fracking coming to the area, our customers tell us they'll be afraid to buy our produce. We have friends out west who are already living with gas drilling on their land. They've warned us about massive truck traffic that chokes the air with toxic dust. They also told us that air and water pollution has made their animals and children sick."

"Then forgot about the farming and lease your land," another young male suggested. "Maybe you'll make enough money so you can buy a farm in another state."

A young woman bristled at his remark. "Not everyone who lives here owns land, nor does everyone want to trade their peaceful way of life for money. Many of us are teachers, nurses, postal workers, waitresses, seniors, and single moms. It's never been easy to rent apartments in the area, but with an influx of outsiders needing housing, homelessness among local residents becomes a real concern. Landlords feel justified in evicting long-time renters, because natural gas workers can afford to pay double or triple the usual rent."

A professional looking man took the microphone and stood before the group. "The outsiders bring badly needed cash to restaurants, bars, clothing stores, markets, and convenience stores. The natural gas industry is a boon to many businesses. Depressed communities will thrive again."

"Yes," yelled another, "if you can get to the downtown. Massive industrialization ruins roads and causes endless traffic jams. The drilling keeps the tourists away, and it destroys the serenity of small town life."

"You can starve in a peaceful small town," a middle-age woman said as she shot to her feet. "My family was struggling until my husband got hired by the natural gas industry. Now he makes a six-figure salary."

Another woman hurried to claim the microphone. "Your gain could be our loss. Dairy farming my not have a future alongside fracking. My husband is a veterinarian. If farmers have to sell off their animals, a vet won't be needed in this area. And, too, the farmers' feed and equipment stores may end up closing, because fewer people may continue to farm their land."

"You're imagining the worst case scenario," a man shouted. "The natural gas industry has assured us fracking is safe."

Dr. Jessup stood up, raising his arms in the air. "Let's be calm, folks and not talk out of turn. Remember you all cared about each other before your community was turned upside down." Spotting a grandmotherly type waving a hand, he called on her. "Ma'am, it's your turn to speak."

Smoothing down the skirt of her floral-print dress, the white-haired lady smiled at her audience. "I think the good Lord put the fossil fuels in the earth, so humans can heat their homes, drive their cars, and run their factories. All of us should get down on our knees and thank God for the bounty of oil and gas, and coal."

A middle-aged minister, dressed in a clerical collar and a gray suit, raised his hand.

"Reverend, go ahead," Dr. Jessup said.

The minister's intense eyes scanned the room. "I've known many of you for twenty years, and I've often heard you say that you are blest to live in 'God's Country.' Indeed our community is rich with beauty – endless mountains, pristine lakes, and dense forests. Let's not forget that God expects us to be good stewards of creation. It's not ours to abuse or destroy."

As the reverend spoke the audience quieted, listening intently as he reminded them of their priceless heritage.

Continuing on, he nodded toward the guest speaker. "As Dr. Jessup has so eloquently stated, humans have overused fossil fuels, resulting in erratic and extreme weather events. Whether we want to believe it or not, there is a preponderance of evidence of climate change and a growing threat to life. Our challenge is to work together to prevent further harm to the good earth. God has also given us sun and wind. It seems prudent to move toward cleaner energy."

"Wind and solar energy also have their problems," said a natural gas official who stood up to address the group. Dressed in a jacket with his company logo on the back and sporting an amicable smile, he immediately commanded the attention of the crowd. "Natural gas can be the ideal bridge fuel for decades to come, moving the United States away from dirty energy and providing a cleaner alternative until more energy options can be developed."

Another industry official joined the discourse. "The country needs environmentally friendly solutions, and natural gas offers a great alternative to the other fossil fuels. It is cheaper than oil and coal, and it is abundant in the United States."

"Much of what you say it true, gentlemen. Natural gas emits only half the carbon dioxide of coal." Dr. Jessup loosened his tie as he rose to speak at the podium. It was obvious to everyone that he had just been persuasively challenged by the experts from the other side of the controversy.

"However," Dr. Jessup continued, "the main component of natural gas is methane, a far more potent heat-trapping gas than carbon dioxide. The methane, along with many undisclosed toxic chemicals used in fracking, poisons the air and water. As the largely unregulated industry expands to more states, and as hundreds of thousands to millions of more wells are horizontally drilled in the future, climate change will only grow worse. Instead of a bridge fuel to the future, dependence on natural gas may represent the gangplank to disaster."

"And who are you, to look down your nose at the natural gas industry?" A tall, gray-haired man rose from the audience and started toward the stage. "I'm Gerald Kearsley, and I'd like to speak from the podium."

"Oh, no," Nate said. "My dad came here from a neighboring county, and he's going to make a scene."

"Your father?" Jenny studied the anxiety on Nate's face as her fingers tightened around his arm. "What's he doing here?"

"My dad inherited his small family farm in Pennsylvania," Nate explained. "I'm sure he's up to no good."

Everyone watched Gerald Kearsley weave and stumble his way to the platform. Clearly Nate's father was intoxicated as well as angry. Dr. Jessup cautiously stepped back from the podium, allowing room for the interloper.

"I'd like to tell my story," Gerald said, fumbling for the microphone.

A buzz filled the room as audience members whispered to their neighbors, but no one seemed alarmed enough to remove the irate drunk.

Pointing toward the back of the hall, Gerald singled out Nate. "That's my son, the kid with the long hair," he said with a slur. "Nathanial Kearsley is the hippy protestor who demonstrates against the fracking industry. He was arrested and charged with criminal trespass for blockading a gas drilling installation last summer."

"Dad, it was non-violent, civil disobedience to protect our air and water," Nate defended. "I didn't hurt anyone."

"You hurt me," Kearsley growled. "You hurt everyone by standing in the way of progress."

"Let's go back to our motel," Kristen said, nudging Jenny toward the door.

Jennifer hesitated as Nate advanced toward the stage. "Kristen, wait in the car while I try to get Nate out of here." Immediately she hurried after the lanky young man who moved warily toward his father.

Gerald Kearsley's speech only grew nastier. "Thanks to you, 'Mister Know-It-All Climate Expert'," he said as he aimed a finger at Dr. Jessup, "you've scared off my neighbors. My fifty acre farm is surrounded by 'tree huggers,' who won't lease their land because of alarmists like you. Now the gas companies may decide to bypass my property and head for more lucrative pastures. Why you're no better than a dirty rotten thief."

"Dad, leave him alone," Nate said as he climbed the stage steps and approached his father. "Let's go somewhere and talk."

Gerald whirled around, the side of his jacket flapping open, revealing a gun tucked in his belt. Menacingly touching his fingers to the firearm, he shouted his warning. "You get out of here, and take your little spy girl with you."

Jenny froze, stunned by the display of a weapon and the reference to a spy. Her knees grew weak as realization hit. Mr. Kearsley must know what her parents did for a living.

"Dad, this is between you and me," Nate said, as he inched closer to the threat.

"Stay back or someone will get hurt," Gerald yelled. Then placing his mouth near the microphone, he resumed his slurred speech. "Did you people know that government officials are in cahoots with environmentalist activists? They have federal agents protecting lying climate scientists. If you don't defend your rights, the government will dictate what you can do with your own land."

As the rambling tirade continued, Dr. Jessup cautiously moved toward the podium, placing himself between father and son. Suddenly, Gerald swung his fist toward the scientist, in the same second a gunshot exploded from the audience. Malcolm Jessup crumbled to the floor.

Reacting without thinking, Jenny rushed forward and bent over the scientist. In horror, her mind registered the pooling blood from Dr. Jessup's wound. Fighting down her panic, she then saw several armed men mount the platform and fan out across the stage.

One bully shoved Nate to the floor and sent his cell phone flying off the stage. Another one leaned alarmingly close to Jenny's face, his breath reeking of alcohol. Then, ignoring the injured man, two more thugs hurried Gerald Kearsley from the scene, yelling to their allies to follow.

Nate scrambled to Jenny's side as she pressed her coat against Dr. Jessup's gaping wound. "Go," the scientist said with a groan. "Save yourselves."

Finally the minister appeared, along with one of the officials from the natural gas industry. "Here, young lady, the minister said, "allow us to assist with Dr. Jessup until the ambulance arrives." Quickly the two men administered first aid.

Nate didn't hesitate. Grabbing Jenny's arm, he pulled her to her feet. "Come on, we have to get out of here. My father's cronies may make us their next victims."

* * *

**Birchwood – Saturday Morning, October 11**

By dawn's faint light, Amanda awoke to the inexplicable joy of her husband nestled by her side. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she stretched the kinks from her back and neck. She might feel like a new bride in spirit, but her aching joints told the whole truth. Fifty-six was not the new forty-six. Just the same, the old magic had grown stronger over the years - purified by tenderness and honed to perfection.

Lee stirred beside her. "Good morning, sweetheart," she announced in her unfailingly cheerful voice.

"Hi," he growled, struggling to gather his wits about him. "I guess I dozed off."

"Yes, for about nine hours. You didn't even wake up when the nurse came to check your vital signs."

He nestled her body against his chest. "So, last night wasn't a dream?"

"No, and I didn't tiptoe out of here to run home to the boys. Although Mother did give me one of her incredulous laughs when I called last night to tell her I'd be with you."

"At least you didn't have to say you'd be in the editing room all night." He touched his forehead to hers as she giggled like a school girl. When their laughter faded, his face turned serious. "I was awake around four o'clock. Getting my memories back was overwhelming. There were some troublesome demons from the past that woke me up."

"Oh, sweetheart," she soothed, taking his hand. "Like what?"

"The death of friends," he said, sorrow plainly etched in his features. "I forgot that Billy died. All this time, I thought he couldn't visit me because he was traveling in Europe with Jeanne."

"I'm sorry for not acknowledging the truth, but Dr. Hollingsworth felt the bad news should wait until you recovered."

"I know." He raked a hand through his short hair, now nearly long enough to accommodate his nervous habit. "At least, I can't blame myself."

"No, Billy's Agency colleagues couldn't protect him from dying too soon. His heart simply gave out. At least he enjoyed retirement for a few years."

"Yeah, but it wasn't enough. I think he held onto the job too long. He couldn't bear to walk away, and it took a toll on his health."

"We all need to know when it's time to let go," she said seriously, "even you."

"Yeah, I hear you. My battle with death puts everything into perspective. I want to be around a long time for you and the kids." Pausing, he rubbed his eyes, now glistening with unshed tears. "I also realized Joe is gone. I can't believe he got short-changed on his granddaughter, after missing a huge chunk of Phillip and Jamie's childhood."

Amanda sighed, gripping her husband's hand a little tighter. "I'm grateful Mandy has you, sweetheart. She absolutely adores her Poppy. And don't ever forget how important you've been to Phillip and Jamie. They love you every bit as much as Joe."

"Ah hem." A female presence prompted Lee and Amanda to sit up quickly, adjusting the covers around them as their most intrusive colleague pulled open the privacy curtain. "I hope you're decent."

Lee sighed. "Oh, no."

"Good morning, Francine," Amanda squeaked, feeling a heated blush spread along her neck and cheeks.

The acting Agency section chief held up the "Do Not Disturb" sign. "I should have known," she said with a grin. "The Agency head honcho called me at six o'clock this morning to say Scarecrow was disrupting the Birchwood Nursing Home. Apparently Dr. Lori McGraw didn't want you entertaining women on the night shift."

Lee groaned. "Honestly, Francine, must you always charge in on us. You do remember that we're married, right?"

"I can't resist. It's still so much fun to catch you two off guard, especially when you're obviously sharing the same pair of pajamas." Then locking onto Lee's gaze, she shook her head in wonder. "I was thrilled to learn last night that your memories are back."

"Thanks," he said with a grin. "It's hard to believe I'm so lucky."

"Or got lucky last night," Francine said with a smirk. Then turning serious, she seated herself on the chair by the bed. "Sorry, I can't wait for the two of you to get dressed. We need to talk now."

Amanda's breath caught. "Did the Agency catch up with our daughter?"

"Not exactly," Francine said. "I did talk to her by phone last night, and Jenny assured me she was safe. However, after our conversation, she apparently took off with Nate to avoid trouble. Unfortunately, her cell phone was left behind in the car Kristen Bronson was driving, and amazingly, Nate's cell phone was found at the scene of the town meeting."

"Oh my gosh." Amanda's raspy voice was thick with panic.

Lee wrapped an arm around his wife as air rushed from his lungs. "Cut to the chase," he said in his familiar take-charge tone. "What the hell happened at the lecture?"

"To be perfectly blunt, Jean Kearsley's ex-husband showed up for Dr. Jessup's speech. The man was drunk and threatening when he tried to take over the meeting."

Amanda was shocked. "Gerry was there?"

"Yes, apparently Mr. Gerald Kearsley and some of his extremist friends went to harass Dr. Jessup. Nate's father didn't show up empty-handed. Gerald managed to stir things up by flashing his gun, although he didn't actually use his weapon."

"Why on earth would Gerald Kearsley be there?" Lee asked.

"I contacted Jean and asked her the same question," Francine said. "It seems your old neighbor owns property that sits on top of the Marcellus Shale – a virtual fortune of natural gas. Logically, all Gerald has to do is lease his land to bring in royalties from one of the hydraulic fracturing companies that are pouring into the state."

Confused, Lee shook his head. "So what's his beef?"

"His beef is the non-compliance of all the land owners with property bordering his few acres. So far his neighbors have refused to cooperate with the natural gas companies, and consequently the industry isn't as eager to have him sign on the dotted line. If they are going to drill for gas, they want substantially more acreage to frack. Gerald Kearsley's hardscrabble farm may be bypassed unless the residents around him sign on, too."

"You're saying that none of his neighbors are interested in the big bucks they can rake in by leasing?"

"Not at the moment. They've been scared off from leasing."

"Oh, of course," Amanda said as the facts gelled together. "His neighbors must have been warned about the threat to their air and water by people like Dr. Jessup."

Francine nodded. "And, they've been influenced by protesters like Jean and Nate. Gerald Kearsley knew they were actively demonstrating against fracking and he's very bitter about that fact."

"Dammit," Lee shouted, "if Kearsley didn't hurt anyone, then why did Jenny and Nate run?"

"They felt they had to flee." Francine's intense blue eyes quickly darted away from his troubled gaze. "One of Gerald's trigger-happy, drinking buddies shot Dr. Jessup. The climate scientist is in the hospital with a bullet wound to the left side. Thankfully he's expected to survive."

"Hell, what next?" With fists clenched, Lee could barely control his rage.

Amanda clutched her husband's arm as she fought down her rapidly growing fear. "Francine, where could the kids have gone, and why, in heaven's name, didn't you call us last night?"

Fully in agent mode, Francine rose to her feet, ready to justify her actions. "I didn't call because I knew you two would take off on your own to look for them." Then raising her hands, she stymied any further rebuttal. "You need to stay here. Let the Agency handle it."

Lee was livid. "I demand an Agency car and driver to take us to Pennsylvania."

Francine stood her ground. "It's not happening, Stetson. I'm placing the nursing facility under lockdown. Neither of you will be going anywhere."

Amanda was off the bed in a flash, her skimpy attire be damned. "I need to look for Jenny and protect my family. The Agency can't stop me."

"Oh, yes it can," a defiant Francine said, using the full weight of her authority. "You're all in danger. Gerald Kearsley is furious with anyone who stands in the way of his property rights. The man has become unhinged over fracking, and he's surrounded himself with some kind of crazy personal militia. Gerald and his buddies are out there somewhere, threatening harm to those who get in their way."

"Hell, Francine," Lee growled, "we're not interfering with Gerry's land rights."

"Don't you see? The thugs hold you and your family responsible for Kearsley's problems. Amanda and Jenny represent the environmentalists and both of you are government agents who protected Dr. Jessup and Gerald's activist ex-wife and son. They probably want revenge on you, too."

Lee tightened his grip around Amanda's waist as she sat on the edge of the bed. "Then Gerry's thugs must have tampered with our brakes and played a starring role in Baxter's house fire."

Francine nodded. "Yes, Gerald Kearsley and his friends are probably behind your entire nightmare."

"Oh, Lord, Mother and the twins are home alone," Amanda said as she grabbed for her clothes. "What happens if trouble comes knocking at their door?"

"I'm on it." Fully in professional mode, Francine was already heading for the exit. "The Agency is sending more protection for your family and has already put out an APB on Nate and Jenny."

Amanda listened as the sound of her colleague's stiletto heels faded from the hallway. "I can't stay here," she informed her husband. "I need to get home. Our family is in danger."

Lee grabbed the telephone and tapped in a number. "Hello, Dotty," he all but shouted as he put the phone on speaker. "Are you okay? Have you heard from Jenny?"

"We're all fine, dear. I was just getting ready to call you. Jenny and Nate arrived at six o'clock this morning. He's sound asleep, and she's in the shower."

Amanda leaned in closer. "Mother, what's going on with Jen?"

"Hello, darling," Dotty said with a smile in her voice. "I hope you enjoyed your night out."

"Moth-er," she groaned as Lee winked.

"Jenny's fine, darling, but she didn't tell me much – just something about Nate's father causing trouble. However, when Kristen's mother called here a few minutes ago, she was madder than a swarm of angry bees. Apparently Jenny and Nate left without saying good-bye."

Lee and Amanda exchanged worried looks. "Listen, Dotty," he said, "we need to know what's happening outside. Do you still have the Agency babysitters in the driveway?"

Dotty footsteps could be heard hurrying across the hardwood floor. "Well, as we speak, I'm looking out the front window, and I recognize the Agency vehicle with two men inside. They appear to be having coffee and donuts. Honestly, I don't know how Jenny and Nate managed to slip pass them. They seem oblivious to the fact that two people arrived at the crack of dawn."

Amanda shook her head. Leave it to Jenny to outsmart the agents. "Mother, I'm getting ready to come home. However, for now, I want you to lock the doors and stay put. More agents will show up soon."

"Stay away from the windows," Lee added. "And don't let anyone in the house unless they're Agency. Especially don't let Nate's father in the house."

"For heaven's sake, why would Gerald Kearsley turn into public enemy number one?"

"Mother, I will explain everything when I get home. Just be cautious. We love you."

"Well, all right, dear. I love you both. You'd better be careful, too," she warned before hanging up.

Laying the phone on the nightstand, Amanda frantically began to dress. As she pulled her sweater over the waistband of her slacks, Lee watched helplessly, but only for a beat.

"I'm going with you," he announced, his Stetson doggedness firmly in place.

Slipping on a shoe, she fiercely shook her head. "No, you're not, Lee."

"Hell, Amanda, I can't sit here and worry about our family."

"Sweetheart, I wish you could go, too, but you can't flee Birchwood on a walker. Security will surely spot us. I'm not even sure how I'm getting out of here."

"Amanda," he pleaded between clenched teeth. "Either you take me with you, or I will escape by myself."

She sighed in resignation. With or without her help, Lee would find a way home. "Okay," she finally said. "Let's get you dressed, and then we'll go find Fred Fielder. He may have some memory gaps, but he still packs some brawn on his aging body. He'll have to be your crutch."

* * *

**TBS**


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13: Birchwood Escape:**

Former Agent Fielder was proud and pleased to be ordered back into the field with Scarecrow and Mrs. King. To the befuddled Fred, it was just another Agency assignment, only this time Scarecrow was injured and needed special attention. With an air of superiority, Fred sized up Lee's situation as he circled the injured agent and stared down his nose at a very annoyed Stetson.

"Back off, Fielder," Lee barked, reminding Fred who really claimed alpha male status.

Closing her eyes, Amanda held her breath, waiting for the unlikely pair to stake out their rightful places in an agent's pecking order. When they finished sorting out the chain of command, she presented them with custodian coveralls, borrowed from the maintenance staff locker room. And in the tradition of a "be prepared" Cub Scout den mother, Amanda gave each man a Washington Nationals baseball cap, hastily purchased from the gift shop. There was no use in attempting an escape if Fred and Lee were immediately identified as Birchwood patients. And, too, there was no point in parading them down the main corridor, only to be nabbed by security at the front entrance.

Poor Fred was completely bewildered when Amanda opened his first floor bedroom window and climbed over the sill. Then motioning for Fielder to ease Lee through the opening, she painstakingly coaxed them to hide in the bushes until she gave the all clear signal. She sighed at their slow progress. At this snail's pace, it would be a week from Sunday before they made it off the premises.

With Lee's arm slung over his shoulder, Fred managed to keep him on his feet. However, every step was an effort, evidenced by the pain etched on Lee's face. He'd need to tap the same adrenaline rush of yesterday, if he was going to keep up today.

"Here, sweetheart," Amanda said as she slipped him some Ibuprofen from her shoulder bag. "This may take the edge off your discomfort."

"Thanks." Lee welcomed the pills, swallowing them with the bottled water she produced from her bottomless pit called a purse.

As they stayed close to the building's brick wall and sought cover behind tall shrubs, Fred's eyes darted left and right.

"Good job, Fred," Amanda whispered, trying to encourage the bumbling Fielder to keep his wits about him. "Let me know if you spot any movement."

"I'm on it, Mrs. King."

Heading for her car, Amanda saw security swarming around the parking lot. There was no way they could make it to her vehicle and leave by Birchwood's main entrance. "Now what do we do? We can't risk security spotting us."

Lee pointed toward the grounds maintenance equipment. "Maybe someone left a key in the ignition."

"I hope you're right," Amanda said as she and Fred shouldered their patient and helped Lee toward the grassy knoll.

Peering into each monster vehicle, they quickly ruled out the tractor and the backhoe. That left the red Ford pick-up, its bed loaded to the max with assorted lawn care equipment. Opening the driver's side door, they struck gold. Underneath the floor mat was the key.

Lee tried to shove Amanda in ahead of him. "I'll drive."

"Oh no, you won't," she argued, refusing to budge. "You're in no shape to handle a truck. I'll drive."

"Like hell, you will," he growled. "This baby is a four-on-the-floor stick shift. You never did completely master the art of shifting gears."

Amanda weighed the lesser of two evils and decided she was the safer bet. "Lee, take your pick—either I drive or Fred will have to take the wheel, but you're not an option. With weak legs, you might end up in another accident."

"Hell, Fielder is clueless. He can't tell a truck from a battleship."

"I beg your pardon." Fred drew his sagging body up to his full height and jutted out his chin. "I take offense to your assessment of my capabilities. I may not remember all the months of a year, but I will never forget my driving skills."

"Sorry, Fred," Amanda said, patting his back. "Maybe we'll save you for later." Taking charge, she commandeered the driver's seat, while Lee and Fred rounded the cab and climbed in the passenger side.

With her husband crammed in the middle, she attempted to start the truck. The engine choked and wheezed, in fits and starts, but never quite turned over.

"The clutch, Amanda," Lee hissed between gritted teeth. "Ease off the clutch and gently give it some gas."

She slowly counted to ten. "You're rushing me, sweetheart. Rushing makes me nervous." Meeting his glare with equal venom, she tried again. This time the engine roared to life. Remembering Lee's instructions, she got them moving with spits and sputters. Shifting into first, she felt her confidence grow as they bounced toward the Birchwood back exit. So far, so good - no one had spotted them.

Laying his hand over hers, Lee prepared to assist in the shifting of gears. "Now get ready, and don't forget to engage the clutch."

"Got it." As they shifted into second gear, Amanda failed to sufficiently accelerate. Quickly, the vehicle shuddered and died. "I don't know what's wrong," she defended. "I feel like we're pulling a load of elephants."

"Well, not quite elephants, Mrs. King." Fred flashed a mocking grin. "You have a utility trailer hitched to the truck, and it's loaded with two "Bob Cat" riding lawn mowers."

"Oh, Lord." Amanda gripped the steering wheel with such force her knuckles turned white. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lee fuming next to her, losing a battle with his nasty temper.

Only inches from her face, his heated words felt hot upon her skin as he spat out his frustration. "Are you going to change your mind about your crazy stunt driving, or do you plan to wait until you've stripped the gears?"

"I can do this, Stetson. Just stop pressuring me." Once more she started the engine, mindful of the clutch. Slowly they crept down the winding driveway toward the street.

Lee valiantly held his tongue for a whole twenty yards. "Amanda, you'll need to stop before you roll into traffic."

"You mean now?" she asked, slamming on the brakes. The truck and its heavy load groaned to a stop, sending everyone lurching toward the windshield.

Lee was furious. "Hell, Amanda, you forgot the damn clutch again. Let me take the wheel before you finish us all off in your demolition derby."

"Fine, then, I'm done, but if you attempt to drive, I'll park you on a bench where security can find you."

Exiting the truck, Amanda ran around the long trailer and poked her head in Fred's window. "You're driving," she announced with a calm she didn't feel. Trading places with an exuberant Fielder, she eased into the space next to her husband, doing everything in her power to prevent their bodies from touching. Gosh, the romance of the previous night had dimmed to a distant memory. One minute they were reunited lovers, and, now, only hours later, they were arch rivals. Daring a peek at her husband, Amanda felt stung by the intensity of his harsh gaze.

For a long beat, Lee glowered at his wife with a look that could coil a rattlesnake. Then jerking his baseball cap over his forehead, he slouched in the seat and ignored the whole fiasco. "Wake me when we get home—if we get home."

Thankfully, Fred seemed to adapt quickly. With Amanda navigating and Lee sleeping, they were safely headed in the right direction. However, with the truck and trailer crawling along at thirty miles per hour, it may take all morning before they reached their destination.

* * *

**Point of Rock, Maryland – Stetson Homestead:**

All was quiet at the family homestead as Dotty nervously paced the front living room. Normally the pristine area was reserved for entertaining Lee and Amanda's colleagues or her own bridge club, but now the formal setting helped to calm her nerves. She loved the serenity the room afforded with its white marble fireplace, tall stately windows, and gold damask drapes that framed the beautiful countryside. Heaven forbid that anyone should try to violate the sanctity of the Stetsons' hearth and home.

Taking a seat on one of the matching wing back chairs, Dotty ran a finger over the blue brocade pattern as she studied the intricate floral design of the area carpet. Her mind raced with unspeakable scenarios that could harm the family today. "Not on my watch," she challenged herself.

Rapping her knuckles on the drop-leaf table, she felt her old determination take hold. Come what may, she would meet any threat with aplomb. Rising to her feet, the seasoned grandmother dared a peek around the drapes, knowing full well she was borrowing trouble. However, she couldn't resist temptation, especially since the family dogs were barking at something.

Dotty could barely see through the mist that hovered over the lowlands and along the Potomac River. Only the upper driveway remained visible on the Stetson property. Luckily, she could spot the Agency vehicle still stationed near the house. However, there was no sign of new arrivals. "Where is my daughter?" Anxiously wringing her hands together, she sensed danger already stalked the grounds of the family homestead. "Amanda should have been here by now."

The sudden touch of a hand on her shoulder startled Dotty, and she whirled around, her heart pounding at the intrusion.

"Who are you talking to, Grandma?" Jenny asked as she slid an arm around her grandmother.

Dotty relaxed. "Oh, I'm just thinking out loud." Pulling Jennifer into a hug, the indomitable Dorothea West relished the moment and then prepared to interrogate her granddaughter. "We need to talk, young lady. Apparently you and Nate had quite a scary night."

Rubbing her sleepy eyes, Jenny's face crumbled. "Oh, Grandma, you have no idea."

"Try me, darling." Steering the teen away from the tall windows, Dotty pointed toward the white damask sofa that graced the formal living room. "After living with two intelligence operatives for decades, I've learned to expect the unexpected. And, just so you know, your parents called and told me to watch out for Nate's father. Apparently he's been behaving badly."

Jenny tightened the sash of her long bathrobe and tucked a stocking foot under her thigh as she lounged on the sofa. "Oh, Grandma, it was awful. Nate's dad was a threatening drunk at last night's town gathering. He even had a gun."

Dotty gasped. "I hope he didn't use it."

"No, he didn't, but one of Mr. Kearsley's friends shot the climate scientist in front of everyone. Now Nate is afraid his father's buddies may try to harm us."

"Darling, that's terrible." Dotty cringed at the news, knowing her granddaughter's innocence had been sorely tested by yet another tragedy. Reaching for Jenny's hand, she probed for more information. "What were you doing at a town assembly? I thought you and Kristen were visiting colleges?"

"We were, Grandma, but last night we needed to lend support to Dr. Malcolm Earl Jessup. We also wanted to encourage the anti-fracking groups in Pennsylvania."

"Oh, so you were demonstrating again." Dotty's scowl silenced any rebuttal. "Jennifer, I'm afraid your passion for environmental justice is stepping on the toes of people diametrically opposed to your interests. Believe me, I know exactly how you feel, but as a grandmother your activities scare me to death."

Jenny's cheeks reddened, a clear sign she was losing the battle with her temper. "Grandma, didn't you ever stand-up for an important cause?"

"Of course I did, darling. I spoke my mind in the public square a time or two. Actually, you come from a long line of strong, social activist women. I took your mother to hear Martin Luther King, Jr. when he gave his "I Have a Dream" speech in 1963. Your great grandmother marched for women's voting rights, and your great, great grandmother was an abolitionist. And don't forget, during World War II your civilian British grandmother allowed a complete stranger, an American military officer, to shove important documents into her hands with the instructions to get them to 10 Downing Street."

"Yes, and Jennifer Hamilton married Matthew Stetson. It's so romantic." Jenny held her hand over her heart and grinned. "Just like when Mom met Dad."

"Humph," Dotty said, determined to counter her granddaughter's starry-eyed view of a risky business. "I'm afraid there's a weakness in the family gene pool on both sides of your family. Too many of our women fall for tall, handsome men who make their living in dangerous professions. In your paternal grandparents' case, their intelligence work meant they died young, leaving your father orphaned at a tender age. If I were you, I'd think twice about Nate. He definitely attracts trouble."

"Oh, Grandma . . . ."

Loud noises from the yard interrupted their exchange. "Oh my gosh, was that gunfire?" Jenny was off the sofa in a flash.

"Get down," Dotty yelled as she lowered her creaking knees to the floor.

Jennifer ducked, just before a barrage of bullets shattered the front windows and fragmented a treasured ginger jar lamp. Stampeding bare feet thundered through the house as the twins and Nate stormed the living room in pursuit of the commotion.

"Hit the deck," Jenny shouted as she inched toward the others. The boys complied, but Matty and Robby's heads kept popping up as more shots rang out. The latest blitz brought a delicate Chinese vase crashing to the floor in the front foyer.

"Oh, no," Dotty cried. "There goes Amanda's favorite Ming Dynasty replica that Lee bought her when they were in Germany." Operating on sheer grit, she motioned everyone toward the back hallway. "We need to move to a more secure room. Let's crawl to your parents' office."

In a crouch, Matthew scampered ahead of the others, ignoring the firm instructions of his grandmother and sister. In seconds, he returned with a periscope he'd obviously taken from his father's desk. "We need to keep them under surveillance," he said as he slithered toward the dining room windows in a quick army crawl. Nate and Robby were beside him in an instant. Staying down, the boys took turns perusing the front yard through the scope.

"Hurry up," Dotty cried with alarm as she peered around the doorway. "Someone will be in here soon, and it may not be the Agency team."

Robby's face blanched. "Oh no, our Agency protectors may have been shot. They're lying on the driveway."

Nate grabbed the periscope and gawked at the crime scene. "I see my father and some of his friends. Dad's pals are well-armed," he warned. "They play weekend war games, so they're no pushovers."

The shrill of rapid firing pierced the silence. "Shit," Nate said, "They have assault rifles and they're aiming at someone down the road. Maybe I should try to surrender. It's probably me they want."

"You stay right here, young man," Dotty said in no uncertain terms. "I just hope my daughter isn't out there."

Matt seized the periscope from Nate and surveyed the action. "I can see more cars, Grandma. None of them belong to Mom."

Another exchange of gunfire reverberated through the countryside, and all three boys covered their heads.

"Get away from the windows," Dotty yelled, brooking no defiance. "We're locking ourselves in the office."

Jenny was already there, reaching for the phone as the twins crawled into the room on their bellies. Following on their heels, Nate kept a protective arm around the family matriarch.

"Hello, Mom," Jenny all but screamed. "We have trouble!"

Securing the office door, Dotty commandeered the telephone. "Darling, we're okay at the moment, but Gerry Kearsley and his friends have shown up. There's a shoot-out on our front lawn as I speak."

"Mother," Amanda gasped. "Are the agents still guarding the house?"

"Not the two men in the driveway. I'm afraid they're badly injured. We think more agents have gathered at the bottom of the hill."

"Oh my gosh." Amanda's raspy voice crackled through the phone. "Mother, where are you?"

"We've locked ourselves in your office."

"Okay, good. We've had a few unexpected delays, but Lee and I are almost home."

"Darling," Dotty said in alarm, "your husband shouldn't be out of bed."

"Mother, he couldn't sit this one out, so we're both coming to the rescue."

"Hello, Dotty." Lee's deep voice bellowed over the telephone. "Put the phone on speaker now. I have instructions for all of you."

"Okay, dear, you're on."

"Boys, do you remember the secret door in the back of the office closet? It's the one you discovered when you were little guys? Grandma has seen it, too."

"Yeah," Matt said, "but you threatened us within an inch of our lives if we ever tried to open it."

Lee snorted at the comment. "Matthew, I didn't threaten your life."

"You threatened to ban 'Sponge Bob Square Pants'," Robby said with a nervous laugh. "At age six, losing our favorite cartoon show would have been a fate worse than death."

"Forget that, guys. Now I want you to open the compartment, but you'll need a key. There's a loose board under the oriental carpet, right corner, near the file cabinet."

"I see it," Robby called as he lifted the rug

Jenny worked a letter opener into the crevice. "I've got the key, Dad".

Matty grabbed it from her hand and ran for the closet.

"Hurry," Nate whispered as he pressed his ear to the office door. "I hear the glass shattering in the front entryway."

Dotty moved closer to the phone and spoke quietly. "We have to hang up now; someone's breaking into the house."

"Wait," Lee said. "Take the two flashlights from the desk's center drawer, and be sure to lock the closet from the inside. It may buy you some time."

"Listen, everyone," Amanda whispered, "when you're in the secret compartment, follow the passage as far as it will go. We'll rescue you at the other end when we arrive."

"Be very quiet," Lee cautioned. "Any noise may be detected on the first floor."

"Okay, darlings," Dotty said as she motioned the children toward the closet. "I hear voices in the hallway. See you soon."

They were barely out-of-sight when a volley of bullets ruptured the office entrance, and heavy footsteps stormed the room. Silently, Dotty motioned the teens through the secret door that Matthew held open. Then, rearranging the garments to conceal their hideout, she stepped through the portal and closed the hatch. Once inside, Dotty stood the flashlight face down against the uneven floor, allowing only a small rim of illumination. Placing her finger to her lips, she reminded everyone to be quiet.

As expected, the attackers rattled the closet handle and then threw their weight against the door until it groaned on its hinges and gave way. Dotty wrapped her arms around the twins, and Nate held Jenny close as someone rummaged around the storage area.

"They aren't in here," one of the intruders yelled. Seconds later, several sets of footsteps pounded the floor and then fanned out over the house. Soon the racket shook the overhead ceiling as the upstairs bedrooms were invaded.

Blowing out a ragged breath, Dotty tried to distract the kids from the onslaught. "I think we're in an authentic Underground Railroad tunnel, she whispered. "Not for trains, but for runaway slaves who took refuge here as they were secretly moved toward Canada. Your parents showed me the outlet in the stable when we first moved here."

"Now it's our turn," Jenny said. "We are the runaways."

Shining the flashlight along the passage, Dotty motioned them forward. "We're walking on a gradual downhill slope, she cautioned. Be careful, there will probably be steps."

Nate and Jenny led the way while Matthew sniffled and Robert coughed. "Sssh," Dotty said, realizing the boys were catching cold. Looking down, she frowned at their attire. Still in flannel pajama bottoms, they were barefoot and had only their short sleeve t-shirts to keep them warm in the damp tunnel.

Without warning, Matty cut loose with a loud sneeze.

Suddenly footsteps on the kitchen side of the wall came to an abrupt halt. A fist pounded the partition. "I found them," a voice hollered. "There must be a hidden room."

Dotty's heart skipped a beat. My God, they'd been discovered. Without hesitation, she pressed her flashlight into Robby's hand. "Run," she whispered to the twins, nudging them forward.

Jenny hesitated and pulled Nate up short. "Grandma, hurry," she called.

Dotty waved them on, just as a barrage of bullets penetrated the tunnel wall.

* * *

**TBC**


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14: Potomac River Bridge: Border of Maryland and Virginia.**

The lawn service truck rattled across the Potomac River bridge and entered the state of Maryland. Turning off of Route 15, the threesome headed for the Stetsons' Point of Rocks home. Lee pumped his hand, motioning for Fred to slow down. "This is as far as we go. I see a road block up ahead."

He felt Amanda flinch against his side as a shared moment of trepidation passed between them. They didn't need words to know their emotions were in perfect sync. Thankfully their tempers had cooled considerably during their crazy roundabout jaunt through Virginia.

"The place is crawling with federal agents," Amanda warned in her nervous raspy voice. "If Francine spies us, she'll never let us get any closer. She was practically spitting nails the last time I spoke with her. Apparently Gerald Kearsley and his thugs have our house locked down like Fort Knox. I hope to God they haven't found our family."

"Amen to that," Lee said as he focused his attention upon Fielder. "Turn left at the next driveway." Then whispering to Amanda, he laid out his plan. "We'll have to pay a visit to our neighbors and see if we can cut through their woods. The dense fog will make us invisible to both agents and assailants."

"Sweetheart, the walk through the woods will be difficult."

"Trust me, we'll manage," he said, firmly in agent mode. Then pausing, Lee squeezed Amanda's hand, reassuring her he was okay.

She still hesitated. "Maybe you'd better hit the bench for the last lap."

"Forget it, Amanda. Believe me, there are other means to travel besides shoe leather. . . ."

Lee's voice trailed off as their neighbor exited the house and stared dumbfounded at the lawn service truck and equipment. Tall and brawny, the sixty-something Jack Donoghue was a shining example of humility and kindness. If anyone would help them, it was sure to be the dependable Irishman.

Tipping his John Deere cap at Amanda, Jack peered in the cab window. "Well, Stetson, you're a sight for sore eyes. Glad to see you're out and about, but what the hell is happening at your place?"

"Nothing good," Amanda said. "Mother and the children are trapped inside with armed intruders."

Jack's ruddy face turned ashen. "My God, is there anything I can do to help?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," Lee said as he motioned Amanda to exit the cab ahead of him. "We'd like to borrow a couple of horses and sneak through the woods to our property."

"Are you crazy?" Jack balked as he eyed them warily. "You're recovering from an accident, Lee. And besides, even on your best day, you're no James Bond. I can't let you risk your life. Let the professionals handle it."

"I'll go," Fred offered as he opened his door. "I'm a fully trained agent."

"No," Amanda said, taking charge. "I'll go." Pulling out her Agency identification, she flashed her badge under Jack's nose. "We are federal agents, and this is a matter of national security. Our colleagues seem to be pinned down, and someone needs to enter the house. That's going to be me."

"And me," Lee insisted, brooking no argument.

Jack was slack-jawed. "Ah, I'll get the horses," he said, turning on his heel and heading for the barn.

Amanda moved around the cab and shoved Fred's door closed. "No matter what happens, stay in the pick-up," she ordered. "You've done great today, so don't let us down now."

Lee leaned in the cab window and grinned at his bumbling old colleague. "This is your big moment, Fredo. You'll probably earn an official commendation for a job well done."

Fred nodded, more serious now than he'd ever been during his working years.

"Okay, champ," Lee said as if talking to one of his boys. "You drive the lawn service truck to the taped-off crime scene area. Let the agents know that Amanda and I are riding horses through the woods to our barn. We'll need backup when we get there. Can you do that for me?"

Fred saluted. "You bet, chief - horses, woods, barn, and backup. I'm on it."

"Wait until we're out of sight." Satisfied that Fred would do his best, Lee returned Amanda's smile and braced an arm around her shoulders. "Thanks, partner. I think you picked a winning team."

Before they'd gone far, Jack led three horses into the barnyard. "I'm going with you," he announced in no uncertain terms.

Lee vehemently shook his head. "I can't allow you to risk your neck."

"Are you armed?" Donoghue raised a questioning brow as his eyes scanned their attire.

Amanda and Lee exchanged sheepish looks. "No, not yet," she admitted. "My gun is locked in my car, back at Birchwood, and Lee isn't officially released from the nursing home. We, ah, dodged security and borrowed the lawn service truck to get here."

"Good, Lord. You smuggled your injured husband out of Birchwood?" Jack shook his head, but then pointed to his firearm strapped under his jacket. "I may come in handy. My gun is registered, and I'm fully trained," he assured them.

Amanda caught Lee's eye, and he nodded his consent. "You can escort us to the other side of the woods, but our colleagues will help us from there."

With no further discussion, Donoghue gave Lee a hand-up, while Amanda washed down her allergy pills with a bottle of water. "I hope I don't start sneezing," she said with disgust.

Lee studied his neighbor for a beat. "I'm sure you're aware of national security and confidentiality."

Donoghue nodded. "Don't worry, I can keep a secret. Let's just concentrate on rescuing your family."

Without another word, the little party formed a line with Lee taking the lead, Amanda behind him, and the brawny Irishman bringing up the rear. They rode in silence along the narrow pathway, keeping watch for any movement in the quiet woods.

Lee tried to ignore the jabs of pain that ran like shock waves through his body, but the enormity of the mission beat like a hammer in his brain. What in God's name would they find? Would Dotty and the kids still be safe or did a massacre await them? Turning in his saddle, he caught Amanda's eye. While her own fear contorted her features, she managed a tight-lip smile.

Finally breaking through the trees, they detected the barn up ahead. From this point on, it was too risky to move on horseback. Holding up his hand, Lee reined in the old dappled gray nag and waited for Amanda and Jack to help him dismount.

"Take it slow," she cautioned as Donoghue braced Lee's tall frame, and she eased his leg over the saddle.

When he finally had both feet under him, Jack secured the horses, tying them beneath a cluster of Aspens. Then Amanda wrapped an arm around his waist, and Jack shouldered his other side. "Are you okay, sweetheart?" she asked as they began to move in sync across the open area.

"I'm fine," he said, gritting his teeth against each jarring stride. They'd just made it to the rear of the building when Bret and Bart, their ten-year-old Golden Retrievers, ran up, barking excitedly. "Heel," Lee commanded, trying to calm them as he brushed long fingers through their fur. God, they were a beautiful sight.

"Of all the times to get a royal welcome," Amanda murmured with a sigh. Kneeling down, she allowed the beloved pets to lick her face. "How are our good boys," she whispered affectionately. Then snapping her fingers she pointed to the ground. "Stay," she said, and the dogs rested their haunches on the grass. "That will work for about ten seconds."

Finally at the back entrance, they listened for any activity. All was quiet, so Lee and Amanda stepped into the barn, and Jack took up sentry inside the doorway. Jenny's roan mare whinnied in welcome, and two of the chestnut horses pawed the ground with their hooves.

Without a word, they went to work. Amanda hurried to the tack room to retrieve the guns and ammunition that they permanently stored in the safe for just such an emergency. Lee grabbed a pitchfork and began moving hay around an empty stall as he searched for a telltale seam in the floor. Reaching down, he tugged at a handle. Unopened for years, the flooring refused to budge.

Amanda reappeared, pulling on an old UVA sweatshirt and tucking a gun in her belt before handing him a firearm. "Won't the trapdoor open?"

"No, dammit, it's stuck." Lee sank against the side of the stall. "Amanda, I don't hear anyone down there," he said, his voice rough with anguish. "If our family followed the passage to the end, they should be directly beneath us."

"Maybe they aren't close enough to the hatch to hear us," she said, her voice betraying her doubts.

Donoghue holstered his gun as he came to their aid. "Let me help." Tugging on the trapdoor with sheer grit, Jack finally pulled it loose.

Suddenly the dogs barked again, and a shadow appeared in the doorway. "If I wasn't so furious with the two of you for breaking out of Birchwood, I'd bow down and kiss the ground you stand on." Francine came through the door, gun drawn. "Gaining entrance to your house is like trying to breach a medieval castle."

Amanda sighed with relief. "Thank God, Fred gave you our message."

"I wasn't sure if I should believe Fred Fielder, but for once he got his orders right." Pointing toward Jack, Francine stated the obvious. "I see you brought reinforcements."

Their neighbor stepped forward. "I'm Jack Donoghue, ma'am. I live down the road a piece."

"We asked him to help," Lee added. "He moved us through the woods on his horses."

Francine gave a quick nod and then pointed to the opening in the floor. "What do we have here? I hope it's another way in."

"The trapdoor is an entrance to an old underground railroad tunnel that connects to our office closet," Amanda explained in a rush. "We thought it would be the great escape for Mother and the children."

"Charming. They don't build them like they use to." Francine dropped to her knees and peered down the hole. "I'm sorry to say Kearsley's little militia still has our team pinned down. His amateur warriors are heavily armed, and they've had lots of target practice. We think there are four of them, plus Gerald."

Lee ran a hand over his sweaty brow. "What's happening in the house?"

"Well, thirty minutes ago, all hell broke loose," Francine said, her face etched with torment. "Honestly, I don't know what kind of carnage we'll find inside. I still think you should let the Agency handle the hostage situation."

Lee snorted with contempt. "No dice, Francine. Our family is in there."

"Whatever happens," Amanda said in a raspy voice, "we have to see the rescue through to the end."

Lee squeezed his wife's hand and then sank to the floor, draping his long legs over the side of the hatch. "We can't waste anymore time."

Jack was beside him in a beat. "Allow me to go first, Stetson."

Knowing his limitations, Lee permitted Donoghue to proceed ahead of him. Then grunting from the effort, he struggled down the ladder.

Amanda held a lantern over the opening. "Be careful," she warned. "The rungs look rickety."

With jaw clenched, Lee endured the descent and waited for his wife at the bottom. Reaching for the lantern, he guided Amanda's way. "Take it easy," he said as Jack held the ladder steady.

Francine's face appeared above them. "I'm alerting the back-up." Then pointing at Donoghue, she motioned him to join her. "You'd better wait up here. We'll escort you to your house as soon as it's safe."

"Thanks for everything," Amanda said, pausing to give her burley neighbor a hug before he made his exit.

Lee offered a handshake to Jack and, with a quick nod, signaled his readiness to his wife. Then bracing his hands on the walls of the narrow passage, he eased his way along the endless tunnel. The darkness seemed to swallow them as the flickering lantern barely lit the pathway. "God, this place reminds me of the Turkish hell-hole where I was held captive decades ago."

A rise in the dirt path caused him to stumble. Right on his heels, Amanda bumped into his back, her fingers grabbing his Birchwood coveralls. "Sweetheart," she whispered against his ear. "Let's stop for a second. I thought I heard something."

No one spoke as they paused to share the water bottle. Lee leaned against the wall, listening to the silence. Apparently they were still too deep in the basement passage to hear any movement from the first floor. Then something shifted overhead and dirt and pebbles rained down on them. "God, I hope it's not a cave-in," Lee said, his words filled with alarm. Giving Amanda a nudge, he pointed toward the exit. "Let's back up a little."

"Dad," a weak voice called. And then a little stronger, "Dad-dy."

Lee looked up, holding the lantern higher. "Oh my God." From a high ledge, eyes wild with terror stared back at him. "Robby," he choked, handing the lantern to his wife. "Climb down as far as possible; I'll be ready to catch you." With a herculean effort, he reached up and steeled his tall body while the skinny kid grasped the rock face with fingers and toes and scrambled down the side. In seconds, Robert lost his grip and dropped into the waiting arms. Amanda grabbed them both as Lee's legs buckled. Together they collapsed to the ground, holding their trembling child between them.

Amanda gave their son a drink of water. "Robby, where are the others?"

Still traumatized, the boy merely pointed at the ledge.

Amanda raised the lantern and scanned the crawl space above their heads. "Hello, is anybody there?" There was a rustling sound and then a deluge of stones and dirt. Finally a pair of haunted eyes appeared. "Mom?" a voice squeaked.

"Matthew," Amanda cried as the other twin peered over the edge. "It's okay now, sweetheart; we're here."

Lee struggled to his feet. "Come on, Matt, throw your legs over the ledge. We'll help you down, son." Mute, but compliant, the boy slid on his belly and dangled bloody bare feet over the side. Then with fingers gripping the edge, he lowered his body as two pairs of hands grabbed his legs. Finally pulled to safety, the kid stumbled into Amanda's waiting arms.

"We knew you'd come," Matthew murmured, "but we freaked out when the flashlight rolled down a crevice and went out. We were too afraid to move."

"I know, sweetheart." As Amanda released him, the boy lunged for his dad and heaved pent-up sobs of relief against the broad Stetson chest.

Lee hugged his son tightly. "You did great, buddy. I know how much you hate the dark." Then reaching for Robby, the grateful father encompassed the quaking child. "Hey, pal, you spotted us just in time."

Meeting his wife's anxious gaze, he felt his gut clinch with raw fear. "What happened to Grandma, Jenny, and Nate?"

With grim determination, Amanda again raised the lantern and slowly walked along the corridor, scanning both sides of the tunnel's earthen walls. "Hello," she called quietly. "Is anybody there?"

"The others never got very far into the tunnel," Robby said. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he leaned into his father's solid frame. "Someone heard us and started shooting through the wall," he said in a voice so soft, the words were barely audible. "Grandma couldn't run fast enough, so she gave us her flashlight and told us to keep going."

Matt took a shuttering breath. "Jenny and Nate must have stayed with Grandma. When you didn't meet us at the end of the passage, we thought we'd better hide."

"Yeah," Robby said, picking up the thread when his brother paused. "It wasn't long before two men checked the tunnel, but they didn't spot us on the ledge. Maybe they didn't know we were in the house when they arrived."

"Oh my gosh, that was a close call, fellas," Amanda sighed and wrapped her arms tightly around the boys. "We're proud of both of you."

Lee shook his head at the horror. Reaching for his family, he drew them in close as they all sought a small measure of relief from the continuing nightmare. They were lucky so far, but the worst was still ahead.

"Okay," Amanda said, pulling out of the embrace. "Let's get you two outside, so Dad and I can look for the others."

The twins balked. "Can't we stay with you?" Matthew asked.

"Not a chance." Lee cupped his hands over the boys' shoulders and moved them toward the exit. "We need to get you guys to safety."

They'd barely gone ten yards, when noise invaded the tunnel. Soon, heavy footfalls hurried through the passage and bright lights glared in their faces. "You found them," a relieved Francine said as she appeared with an Agency contingent.

"Yes, but only our sons." Anxious to keep up the search, Lee handed over each boy to his trusted friend, who greeted them with welcoming arms. "Have the kids checked over by a medic," he said. "They're pretty scraped up, and they're wheezing. I think they need inhalers."

Amanda placed her hands on his back. "My husband needs medical attention, too," she said, her voice firm with resolve. "He's about to keel over."

Lee glared at his wife. "Forget it, Amanda, I'm sticking with you."

"It's useless to stand here and argue," Francine snapped. "Do you want Hanson and Turner to go with you?"

"No," Lee said. "Too many footsteps may give us away."

Francine nodded. Then handing them an extra flashlight, she motioned toward the exit. "I'll take care of the boys and make sure we have back-up placed around the house's perimeter. Good luck."

With an abrupt nod, Lee directed Amanda deeper into the tunnel. "Okay, let's get moving."

Amanda slipped an arm around her husband's midsection and took one more look over her shoulder. "We love you," she called to the forlorn twins.

Lee glanced back at their frightened faces. "We're going to be okay," he said. "I promise."

* * *

**SMK, SMK, SMK**

By the time the twosome climbed the tunnel steps and entered the hidden hallway, Amanda was fully alarmed by the exhaustion that tugged at Lee's sagging frame. Lord, it was a miracle he was still standing at all. If he fell over now, there was no way she'd get him out alone.

Hearing voices along the partition, Lee motioned for them to stop and listen. Even the dogs were barking again. "Shut those damn beasts up," a gruff voice shouted, "or I'll riddle their bodies with bullets."

Light footsteps hurried across the floor and the back door opened with a bang. "Do you want a cookie?" Dotty's voice called out as she beat a metal spoon against a pot. "Bret, Bart, come get a cookie." Soon the dogs could be heard scurrying into the house, their paws prancing excitedly on the linoleum as they begged for doggie treats.

Amanda shared a knowing smile with her husband. Despite the dire circumstances, Bret and Bart could lighten the mood. At least Mother sounded fine and was bearing up under the stress of captivity.

"Chalk one up for the home team," Lee said with palpable relief.

With the tension eased for a moment, Amanda scanned their surroundings, running her hand along the wall that bordered the kitchen. Feeling perforations, she examined them further. "Sweetheart," she whispered, "I found bullet holes."

Lee leaned closer and nodded in agreement. "This is probably the place where your mother, Jenny, and Nate stopped running."

Bending down, Amanda studied the rough flooring, sliding her fingers through a sticky substance. "Oh, no," she gasped, redirecting her husband's gaze. "There's a trail of blood."

"Dammit." With brow furrowed in concern, Lee dropped to his knees to examine the evidence. Then sighing heavily, he pointed toward the wall. "Ssh, I hear Nathaniel's voice. Let's listen; maybe we'll figure out who is hurt."

"Dad," Nate choked, his voice rough with torment. "I don't care what you do to me, but please free Mrs. West and her granddaughter."

"Forget it, Nathaniel," Gerry spat. "It's not going to happen."

"But, Jenny's been shot. She needs medical attention immediately."

"Jenny," Amanda and Lee whispered as they exchanged horrified looks. Holding each other in a frantic embrace, they strained to hear more details.

"I'm sorry that the girl caught a bullet," Kearsley answered, his tone a mixture of anger and remorse. "I had no idea my friends would get so violent. I have no control over their actions."

"What did you think would happen, Dad?" Shouting, Nate's voice shook with fury. "All you and your buddies do is sit around drinking and complaining about the government and your lousy lot in life. Then you frequent gun shows and stock pile weapons and ammunition to protect yourselves from vague enemies, real or imagined."

"We're trying to stand up for everyone's God-given rights."

"You mean you're selfish rights, no matter who gets hurts. Don't you see the truth, Dad? Your fanatical friends feed on each other's anger until all of them whip themselves into a frenzy of rage. Now they've shot a climate scientist, federal agents, and a teenage girl. Before the day is over, they may kill the rest of us. And all for what? It's just stupid revenge on Americans who dare to challenge a massive industry that invades communities."

"Listen here, Nate," Gerry growled. "It's protesters like you and your mother and Jennifer Stetson who infringe on the rights of land owners. We're entitled to do as we damn well please on our property. That includes leasing our land for money."

"That dream is gone, Gerry." Dotty's no-nonsense voice rang as clear as a bell. "Once you're caught, you won't return to your land at all. Please do the right thing by turning yourself in now."

"It's too late," Kearsley said with growing irritation. "My friends will never surrender, and they'll kill any of us who try to stop them."

"Well, then, Gerry," Dotty continued, her words sounding more desperate. "Keep me as your hostage, but let Nate and Jennifer go. Do you want a child to bleed to death while you and your hooligans fight a self-proclaimed war that you can't possibly win?"

"No one's going anywhere," another male voice yelled. "I don't give a tinker's damn what happens to the girl."

Amanda's fingers clutched her husband's coveralls with a death grip. "We have to get to Jenny now," she whispered.

"I know," Lee said, his words filled with torment, but his body poised for action. "We'll have to split-up. I'll follow the tunnel to our office and try to find Jennifer."

Amanda nodded, hating the idea of leaving her husband alone in his weakened state. "I'll need five minutes to go back outside and climb to the second floor. I can enter the house through our bedroom. Hopefully, I'll catch the intruders off guard."

"Be sure you have back-up."

"Of course I will, sweetheart." Leaning into Lee, Amanda hugged him with all her might, knowing full well he had little chance of defending himself, let alone rescuing the others. She hoped to God, he wouldn't be laying down his life in the process. "Be careful."

"You too," he said, pressing his lips to her forehead.

Amanda briefly met her husband's gaze. Then with the Agency flashlight guiding her way, she silently hurried through the tunnel, praying there was time to save Jenny and the others.

Finally climbing through the trapdoor to the horse stall, she met Francine who was just now returning to the stable. "We overheard a conversation," Amanda said tersely. "Gerry and one of his sidekicks are in the kitchen with Nate and Mother. I don't know where Jenny is, but I know she's been hurt."

"What do you mean by hurt?"

"As in shot," Amanda said, her voice betraying her anguish. "From what we understand, Jenny's bleeding badly and needs immediate medical attention. Lee's entering the downstairs through the opposite end of the tunnel. There's a way to the second floor through the outside root cellar. Follow me."

"Amanda, wait." Francine went to the door and spoke with two agents. "Okay," she said as she returned. "I've briefed the others. Our guys will give us a head start and then draw fire from the front of the house while we position ourselves upstairs."

"Fine, let's go." Sticking close to the exterior walls of the barn, Amanda and Francine moved toward the rear of the farmhouse. When out in the open, they kept low to the ground as they inched through the thick cover of the pumpkin patch. Then with a quick dash, they made it to the woodshed and from there it was only several feet to the stone and mortar root cellar. Attached to the house, it's only visible entrance was accessible from the yard.

Amanda closed the door to the dark and humid basement and shined her light around the room, a tiny space left over from a bygone era. "Over here," she instructed as they made their way around containers of potatoes and carrots, gathered by Dotty and the kids from their vegetable garden.

Fumbling for a key above a second door, Amanda opened a small closet, revealing a ladder bolted to the inside wall. Gazing up into the confined area with her flashlight, she grabbed a rung. "I hope you're not claustrophobic," Amanda whispered. "Quiet is better than quick as we climb."

"Your house has some neat hiding places," Francine commented with obvious admiration.

"The secret nooks and crannies were a big selling point when we were house hunting. We only hoped we'd never have to use them." Placing the flashlight in her sweatshirt pocket, Amanda began the long and arduous climb with Francine bringing up the rear. Only their labored breathing penetrated the darkness. Wondering if they'd ever reach their destination, her head finally bumped the top. "We're here," she whispered as she opened the hatch to the master bedroom's walk-in closet.

Pushing against a rack of Lee's suits, they climbed out and readied their guns. Then cautiously moving across the plush carpet, they passed the mahogany trimmed fireplace and the high, four-poster bed. Shielded from sight by shimmering golden drapes, they peered out the windows overlooking the backyard. With a small mirror that caught the rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds, Francine signaled to their backup.

Then it started. Gunfire reverberated from the quiet country lane, and return fire erupted from the downstairs. Making their way along the hallway, Amanda and Francine scrutinized the children's bedrooms. Then, flat on their bellies, they peered through the white spindles of the staircase and surveyed the chaos.

Kearley's partners in crime stationed themselves at the front windows as they discharged their bullets at unseen agents who deliberately drew their attention away from the hostages.

There was no sign of Lee, but both women knew, with or without him, they'd have to make their move quickly. Signaling in readiness, they took aim and squeezed their triggers. Shots rang out and two of Kearsley's militia fell to the floor.

Two more thugs whirled toward the staircase, spraying bullets from their automatic weapons as Amanda and Francine ducked for cover.

* * *

**SMK, SMK, SMK**

Surprised by the barrage of gunfire, Lee cautiously emerged from the office where he'd been impatiently waiting for the heavily armed thugs to clear the hallway. Now, with the rampage reaching a deafening pitch, he made his break. He could only hope that the hostages were safe in the kitchen, and Amanda was out of harm's way.

Risking stray bullets from the crossfire, Lee braced his back against the wall and slid his weary frame along the corridor. Pausing outside the closed guest bedroom door, he pressed his ear to the wood and listened for any voices. The sound of muffled crying brought him up short. With weapon in hand, he threw open the barrier and entered gun first.

"Daddy," a small voice called from the bed. Ensconced in blankets, his daughter stared at him through veiled eyes, her face contorted with fear and pain.

Locking the door, Lee summoned a final surge of adrenaline and stumbled to her bedside. "Hang on, baby," he said as he collapsed to his knees. "Mom and I are going to get you out of here." Brushing a kiss through Jenny's disheveled hair, he pulled back the bloody covers and surveyed her wound. Fortunately someone had already stemmed the flow of blood and bandaged her right shoulder.

"Daddy, don't leave me."

"I won't," he promised as his long fingers stroked her forehead. Then with a reassuring smile, he settled in for the duration, sitting on the edge of the bed with his gun drawn and ready for action. Breathing heavily, he cursed his ineptness as his body denied him even one more step into the fray.

When the shooting finally ceased, he heard footsteps rushing through the house. He couldn't begin to guess which side had won the hard-fought battle. Soon the doorknob rattled as someone tried to enter. Lee took aim, praying for the best, but ready for the worst. Shielding his child's body with his own, he steadied his gun with both hands and waited with bated breath.

"Where's Mom?" Jenny cried, her panicky voice resounding through the room.

Suddenly the door flew open. "I'm right here, sweetie," a familiar voice called. "Ambulances are pulling in the driveway as we speak." Then locking eyes with her husband, Amanda searched his face for a telltale sign.

Lowering his gun and smiling at his wife, Lee conveyed the answer to her unspoken question. "I think it's a flesh wound. Jenny's holding up well."

"Thank God," she breathed as her whole body sagged with relief. Then hurrying to her daughter, Amanda placed gentle hands on the tear-stained cheeks and pressed a kiss to Jenny's forehead. "You're safe now, sweetheart."

A shudder shook the petite frame, but Jennifer bravely smiled through her pain. "I knew you and Daddy would come in time to save me, but I worried about Grandma and the boys."

"Everyone is safe," Amanda said as she smoothed down her daughter's hair. Then reaching for her husband, she locked him in a fierce embrace.

Lee planted his lips against the crook of her neck, thankful beyond words that his family had survived. Then, pulling back, he shook his head in amazement. "Amanda, for someone who hates guns, you managed to save the day. Incredibly, you breached the fortress and subdued the enemy."

"Once Francine joined me, I let my training take over," she said, her hands still trembling from the ordeal. "From then on, all my actions were text-book. Remember, big fella, I had a great teacher."

He grinned broadly. "No, that brash young agent had a remarkable student. And she honed her skills to perfection."

Footsteps in the hallway diverted their attention, and Francine peered in the room while she kept a firm grip on a handcuffed Gerald Kearsley. "Everyone, okay?"

"We're going to be just fine," Amanda called, "thanks to a great Agency team."

"Good job, partner," Francine said with a broad smile. "Your house is secure, and it seems each militia member will live to stand trial."

Amanda nodded with satisfaction. "What about our agents?"

"No fatal wounds. All have survived to serve another day." With a short wave, Francine disappeared from sight with her captive in tow.

Nate hurried into the guest bedroom, followed by two emergency medical technicians pushing an ambulance gurney. "Hey," the lanky kid said as Jennifer managed a small smile.

With Amanda's help, Lee struggled to his feet and nudged the young man toward the door. "I think we'd better allow the paramedics to do their job."

"Wait," Jennifer called. "Mom and Dad, you should know that Nate's the one who slowed the bleeding and bandaged my wound. He also stood his ground with our enemies and probably saved my life."

"I'm impressed." Clamping a hand on a slender shoulder, Lee set aside his objections to the unkempt human rights activist. "I'm sorry about your father's terrible choices, but I'm very proud of you, Nathaniel. You do great work."

The nineteen-year-old blushed with embarrassment, but Amanda hugged him anyway. "Thanks for taking good care of our Jenny."

"My pleasure," Nate replied, his eyes filled with unshed tears and his jaw set with steely determination. "I'd protect her with my life."

Lee nodded. "I bet you would."

As the EMTs took over, everyone filed from the room, closing the door behind them. Hurrying down the hallway, Dotty met them head on. "How's my granddaughter?"

"Jenny will be fine, Mother, but she'll have to go to the hospital."

"Thank God she survived the bullet wound. Francine assured me the boys are fine, too." Hands on hips, Dotty gave her daughter and son-in-law knowing looks before hugging them both. "Well, today's madness has been one for the records books. Your Agency involvement really came home to roost this time."

"Yes," Lee agreed, "but thankfully the house protected us. Our old farm has seen a lot of action and saved many lives over the course of a hundred and sixty years."

"Speaking of action," Dotty said as her flustered hands drew circles in the air. "Have you seen all the slugs in the walls? Not to mention the bullets embedded in your lovely furniture."

"Mother, they're just material possessions. We promise; the house and furnishings will be cleaned, repaired, or replaced."

"Well, I hope you have excellent home owners' insurance. I can't wait to hear you explain home invasion by domestic terrorists to some hapless insurance assessor."

Lee placed an arm around his mother-in-law. "What with national security and all, I think we'll let the Agency handle this one."

"Well, that does make perfect sense. The Agency should assume responsibility." Still not placated by a country mile, Dotty turned to block the path of two agents moving through the hallway. Blindsiding the pair, the indomitable Dorothea West grabbed their elbows. "I hope you men brought coveralls to protect your suits. No one leaves until the Stetson home passes my inspection. After all, as citizens we pay a fortune in taxes for people like you."

Agents Turner and Hanson froze in place as they stared in shock at the demanding family matriarch.

Amanda rolled her eyes for their benefit. "Mother, please."

Dotty winked, knowing full well she was out of line. "Darling, I'm only asserting my civic rights and instilling a little fear into the powers-that-be. After all, my children and grandchildren were forced to put their lives on the line today, in the sanctity of their own home. Our family has earned a little respect and special treatment."

Agent Hanson relaxed his demeanor and smiled in recognition. "You make a good point, ma'am. We'll do what we can to get this place ship-shape before we go. Then we'll call in the cleaning troops to do the rest."

"There, you see," Dotty said with a wave of her hand. "People respond to a strong woman who speaks her mind."

"Trust me, no one knows that better than me," Lee said as he squeezed Amanda's side. "In this family, I'm surrounded by three strong women who always speak their minds."

* * *

**TBC **


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15: Tag - ****October 31, Stetson Homestead**

The ominous mood was perfectly staged for a spooky night at the Stetson haunted house. The driveway and front porch glowed in the dark as trick-or-treaters approached the front door. Orange lights twinkled from trees and shrubs, and a witch on her broomstick dangled from a hanging limb. Lights blazed from grinning jack-o-lanterns, and creepy skeletons leered from porch rockers. Even a black cat meowed as she crisscrossed the sidewalk, now shrouded in a heavy mist. The message was clear. Enter at your own risk.

Glancing out the front window, Amanda sighed with relief, grateful that Lee and Jenny were healing well, and the neighbors were recovering from the shoot-out that threatened their community. Shock and fear had given way to business as usual, and soon party-goers would arrive to celebrate Halloween and Jennifer Stetson's eighteenth birthday.

Jenny had picked the theme for this year's party. She wanted family and friends to dress in attire from the decade of the sixties. Any representation from the revolutionary culture would be acceptable. Leave it to the Stetsons' daughter to honor the period of social upheaval when human rights were hard-fought and hard-won.

Ignoring her father's objections, Jenny decided to dress as a "flower child," complete with a colorful floral dress, a matching head band, a strand of love beads, and flowers in her long brunette hair. Just add Jenny's new guitar and a song, and she could pass for a sixties folk singer, reminiscent of Joan Baez or Judy Collins.

Amanda could hear her husband and daughter's good-natured bantering as they cautiously descended the stairs, arm in arm. The two seemed oblivious to their injuries, despite Lee's slight limp and Jennifer's bandage peeking out from the neckline of her dress.

"Daddy," the teen complained, "I wish you would put on a costume."

"Jen-ni-fer," Lee teased, "if you insist on wearing that hippie outfit, I swear I'll go back upstairs and dress as the sixties radical, Abby Spartman."

"Abby who?"

Lee caught his wife's gaze as they silently shared the memory of an old case. "Abby Spartman published 'The Spark'," he explained to Jennifer. "It was an unauthorized, ultra-liberal campus newspaper at your mother's alma mater. In his youth, Abby was known for social unrest and his beard, dreadlocks, and earrings. Maybe you'd like to see me with big hair." Pretending to climb the stairs again, Lee elicited a gasp from his daughter.

Jenny yanked on his arm. "Dad, don't be ridiculous," she said with alarm. "The guys in your generation looked totally weird."

"And your boyfriend doesn't?" Lee countered. "Nate would fit right into the sixties with his ponytail and granny glasses."

"No, he wouldn't, Dad. Nate's nothing like your generation. From what I've heard, the sixties teenagers and college students believed in free love, psychedelic drugs, and draft dodging."

"Humph," Lee grunted as he came to an abrupt stop on the landing. "I'll have you know, I didn't burn my draft card, and I eventually went to Vietnam to search for Americans who were missing in action."

Jenny leaned in to hug her father. "I'm very proud of you, Dad."

"Ask your mother if she burned her bra," Dotty called over the banister at the top of the stairs.

Amanda glared at the family matriarch. "Thank you for supplying such a memorable image for all of us to contemplate. The answer is, no, I did not burn my bra." Then turning to her daughter, she tried to clarify any other biggies that may be making the rounds in the rumor mill. "Jennifer, let's get one more thing straight. I was not a part of the sixties sexual revolution and the so-called, "free love."

"Mom," Jenny said, rolling her eyes, "anyone, who knows you, realizes that you missed the revolution."

"Well, not entirely, Jennifer," Amanda said with just enough defensiveness in her voice to raise her daughters eyebrows. "I had a granny dress with big blue patches that made a statement, and I wore it for a student demonstration to end the Vietnam War. Also, my desire to protect the environment came out of the green movement of the sixties."

Jenny looked at her mother in awe. "That's great, Mom. I didn't know you advocated for a safe environment when you were still a teenager. Did you participate in sit-ins?"

"Yes, Jen, I did join sit-ins for civil rights and for ending the war, but they were always peaceful protests. Unlike some of my peers, I never incited a riot, burned an American flag, nor set fire to a college administration building."

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Lee placed his arm around Amanda's waist. "Jenny, you can be proud of your mother. She stayed true to herself when many students tilted toward radical behavior."

Amanda caught the flash of pain that briefly haunted Lee's eyes. Words were unnecessary because she could read him like a book. Her husband was remembering the false accusations made by the Agency security review board when someone produced a doctored picture of her supposed attendance at a student uprising. For days, the two of them worked to clear her name, knowing if they failed to do so, their future as partners and as a couple could be over forever.

"Hey," he said, shaking off the bitter memory. "Maybe we should go upstairs and reconsider the Halloween costumes you concocted for us." Holding out his hand, he encouraged his wife to join him.

"Really, sweetheart, I never thought you'd change your mind. A few minutes ago you despised the outfits."

At that moment, Dotty made her grand entrance as she sashayed down the stairs wearing a lavender taffeta gown and matching boa. In her arms, she carried a life-size, plush pig.

Lee shook his head at the costume. "Ah, Dotty, you look beautiful, but what's with the pig? When the sixties radicals talked about a 'pig', they were referring to the police."

"Oh, darling, don't you recognize my character? I'm dressed as the Hungarian diva turned farmer's wife from a sixties sitcom. You must remember the Ziffels and their adopted son, the pig named Arnold."

"Oh my gosh, Mother, you're dressed as the wacky socialite housewife, Lisa Douglas, from 'Green Acres'."

Jenny laughed. "Oh, Grandma, you're just too funny."

"Thank you, darling," Dotty said as she sauntered toward the kitchen. "Maybe you'd like me to make some of Lisa Douglas' favorite liverwurst and jelly sandwiches or fix you a cup of her sludge coffee. I'm even willing to do my best imitations of Ava Gabor and her sister, Zsa Zsa."

"We can't wait, Mother," Amanda called after the whirlwind.

The twins, decked out in costumes, picked that moment to race each other on the stairs.

"Boys, slow down," Amanda warned.

Her words went unheeded. Halfway down, Robby mounted the banister. Tucking his cape under him, he slid at top speed until he was propelled off the end of the railing to the floor. In the same instant, Matt leaped from the landing, his cape billowing in the air behind him before he arrived at the bottom. The twins looked at each other, laughing uproariously.

"Who are the clowns?" Lee asked as he perused the two masked boys who lay in a heap at his feet.

"Dad," Robby complained. "Don't you remember our characters?"

"Two of the Three Stooges would be my first guess. Are you Moe and Larry?"

"Jeez," Matt griped, "you still have huge holes in your memory. We're dressed as Batman and Robin?"

"Who are Batman and Robin?" Lee deadpanned.

"Dad, stop it," the twins yelled, lunging for him when they saw his grin.

Amanda shook her head at the boys' antics, realizing they were already on a sugar high from too much candy. Turning to her daughter, she handed over the large bowl of Halloween treats. "Please feed the little ghosts and goblins who come to our door. Your dad and I will be back down in a few minutes."

"Prepare to be surprised," Lee called to the kids. "I can promise you one thing; our costumes will absolutely embarrass you in front of your friends."

* * *

**SMK, SMK, SMK**

Promptly at eight o'clock the doorbell rang and the party guests began to arrive. The first to appear were Francine Desmond and her husband, Jonathan Stone. His dark hair was slicked down, and she wore a brunette wig. They both held shoe phones to their ears.

"Oh my gosh," Jenny said with a giggle. "Welcome, Maxwell Smart and Agent 99."

"He's not bad for a rookie," Francine said with a straight face.

"And she's not bad for an old lady," Jonathan shot back.

Francine kissed Jenny's cheek and then handed her a gift bag. "Happy Birthday, Ms. Stetson. Today you're an emancipated woman. You can sit at the big girls' table now."

"Maybe you can explain my new found freedom to Dad."

"I intend to." Looking toward the living room, Francine raised a sculptured brow. "Apparently your father has gone into hiding. Is he upstairs sulking in his room?"

Jenny laughed at the snarky remarks of her unofficial aunt. "Mom and Dad are putting on their costumes, but you'll find Grandma in the kitchen."

"Great," Jonathan said. "I can't wait to sample whatever Dotty has cooked up."

The couple had barely started down the hallway when the doorbell chimed again. This time, four guys in tight fitting suits appeared. Each of the "mop tops" had long bangs and hair falling over their ears. Three of the boys carried guitars and the fourth had drum sticks in hand.

"The Beatles," Jennifer squealed. "Yikes, it's John, Paul, George and Ringo." She reached to hug the guys as they headed into the living room.

Once more, the doorbell rang and Jennifer hurried to greet three blonde girls, the youngest one in curls. Hesitating, Jenny waited for another clue to their characters.

"Marcia, Marcia, Marcia," the middle girl complained.

"Ah ha, 'The Brady Bunch' sisters," Jenny shrieked as she recognized the family sitcom from 1969.

Next, Jennifer spied a couple in psychedelic clothes and a tot in a frilly dress. The man had dark hair and a thick mustache, and the woman wore a black wig that hung straight and long over her shoulders. Her racy dress and the toddler in tow immediately gave away the singers portrayed by Phillip and his family. "Welcome, Sonny, Cher, and Chastity," Jenny said, as she reached to tweak Mandy's nose.

"I Got You, Babe," the little girl blurted out to everyone's delight.

As Jenny admired Mandy's pink floral dress and Mary Jane dress shoes, a flash of silver caught her eye. Coming up the walk were Jamie and Lisa in shiny outer space costumes. "Far out," she said, "but you guys can't fool me. You're Professor John Robinson and his wife Maureen. 'Lost in Space' is classic sixties television."

Escorting them inside, Jenny decided to let her younger brothers watch the door, so she could mingle with the others. It wasn't long before the twins reappeared with a clean-cut man she didn't recognize. "I have no idea who 'Mr. Clean' will turn out to be," Matt whispered to his sister.

Robby pointed over his shoulder. "Captain Kirk and Mr. Spock are in the dining room with Peter, Paul and Mary. And Mary Poppins and her chimney-sweep friend, Bert, are sitting on the porch swing."

Jenny gave her brothers a 'thumbs up' and turned to study the mystery guest. Dressed in a three-piece business suit, white button-down shirt and striped tie, the preppy character sported neatly combed short hair and black horn-rimmed glasses. "I'm afraid you've fooled me completely," she said with a tentative smile.

"You really don't recognize me?" a familiar voice asked. Then a toothy grin revealed his identity.

"Nate," she screamed as she threw her arms around him. "You cut your hair and colored it gray. Gosh, I thought you were a college professor."

"Don't you like my new look?"

"No, not the gray, but, yes, your short hair looks great. Why did you cut it?"

"I thought it was time, and, besides, my hair is part of my costume. I'm a sixties politician. Can you guess who?"

Jenny walked around him. "Well, you're not John or Robert Kennedy, and you certainly aren't Richard Nixon."

"I came as a mature, conservative politician. I thought your parents might breathe a sigh of relief if your boyfriend chose a sixties senator who was far less liberal in his views than I am."

"And that would be Barry Goldwater," Amanda said as she quietly came up behind them.

Before Jenny and Nate could respond, Lee's deep voice startled them. "Yes, the Arizona Republican lost his bid for the presidency to the Texan, Lyndon Baines Johnson."

Turning around, the two teens stood slack-jawed as they came face to face with a creepy couple.

Stunned, Jenny gaped at her father's pinstripe suit, fake black hair, brushy eyebrows and dark mustache. Then she stared at her mother's gothic makeup, long black wig, and skin-tight black dress. "Oh my gosh, Mom and Dad, I can't believe what I'm seeing."

Lee offered a cheeky grin and waved an unlit cigar. Firmly in character mode, he swept Amanda into his arms and led her in a quick tango in front of the gathering guests. Then trailing kissing along her arm, he looked deeply into her eyes before planting a lingering smooch upon her fiery red lips.

Their audience cheered at the spectacle while the timid Mandy gawked at her grandparents. "Nanny and Poppy, you look scary," she cried as Lee swung the toddler into his arms and whirled her around in a circle.

Amanda rescued the dizzy child and kissed her rosy cheek. "We're just pretending, pumpkin."

"Oh my God," Nate gasped. "It's Gomez and Morticia Addams. Mr. and Mrs. Stetson aren't you way out of character tonight?"

"Easy, Nate," Amanda said as she handed off Mandy to Phillip. "Don't let the clothes fool you. No one is entirely as he or she seems, with or without a costume."

Lee placed a hand on the teen's shoulder. "Nathaniel, you haven't begun to figure me out yet."

"No, sir," Nate said. "I suspect you're a very complicated man."

Amanda leaned in and pressed a kiss to the young man's clean-shaven cheek. "As you've discovered, my husband has many layers, but inevitably he morphs into a higher life form. You wouldn't believe the stories I could tell you about the freewheeling Lee Stetson that I met in 1983."

"A-man-da," Lee said, shooting her an incredulous look.

"People change, sweetheart." She reached into her pocket and held up an old picture of a gangly teenager. "Jenny's great Uncle Bob sent me a photo of Lee's youth. The poor Colonel threw a fit when his nephew came home from college sporting shoulder length hair, a buckskin jacket, tattered jeans, and a tie-dyed t-shirt."

Jenny quirked her brow as she perused the picture. "Jeez, Dad, you wouldn't let me out the door with this character."

"And don't you ever forget it, young lady," Lee said as he shook a finger at his daughter. "Rebellious young men often see the merits of setting limits when they marry rule-followers and become fathers to daughters. Thankfully, you're standing here with a well-groomed, caring young man."

"Don't let the haircut fool you, sir." Nate tugged at his tie and nervously cleared his throat. "Mr. Stetson, to tell you the truth, I'm still an environmental activist, and I'm always going to stand up and speak out about the climate crisis. I want to make a positive difference for humanity and help to save the planet."

"Me, too, Dad," Jenny said. "Buying energy efficient light bulbs and appliances are important, but small changes aren't going to be enough to slow climate change."

"I hear you." Lee put his arms around Jennifer and Nate. "You know, I've spent my entire adult life trying to make a difference because I thought I could, and I believed I should. Now there are grave threats to the world that my generation never fully imagined. As much as it scares me to say it, I think you should stick to your convictions and work to make a better future. Who knows, maybe your efforts will rock the status quo and change the minds of stubborn old guys like me."

Jenny grinned at her father's declaration. "It's like the old Bob Dylan song, 'Times They Are A-Changin.' Before you know it, we'll have you protesting with the rest of us."

Lee squeezed his daughter's side affectionately. "Jen, I don't expect you'll find me marching through the streets with a protest sign, but I do recognize the need for humans to protect the planet. As the comic strip philosopher, Pogo the Possum, once said, "We have met the enemy and he is us."

Amanda smiled at her husband's words of wisdom. "And if there's any doubt about your dad's change of heart, I have proof." She held up her digital camera and played back their exchange. "In my opinion, Lee Stetson clearly affirmed the environmental activism of Jennifer Stetson and Nathaniel Kearsley."

Lee laughed. "The words came out of the mouth of Gomez Addams. Your proof will never hold up in a court of law."

"No, but your recorded testimony will hold up in this family, big fella. Around here, your wife passes final judgment."

* * *

**The End**

* * *

**Credits:**

"Mount Desert Island Fire" descriptions. Much of the information was gleaned from tours I have taken at Bar Harbor and Acadia National Park and from websites that depict the history of the park.

"I have met the enemy and he is us," was written by Walt Kelly, the author of the "Pogo" comic strips. The finalized version of the quotation appeared in a 1970 anti-pollution poster for Earth Day and was repeated a year later in the daily strip. The slogan also served as the title for the last Pogo collection released before Kelly's death in 1973."

**Truth or Fiction:**

Former Vice President Al Gore's film documentary, "An Inconvenient Truth," is real, as are his Academy Awards and the Nobel Peace Prize.

Point of the Rocks, Maryland is a very real community, but the Stetson homestead is a complete fabrication.

The environmental hazards found in Northwest Washington, D.C. really happened.

While the SMK characters and Birchwood are borrowed for my story, the Congressman, climate scientist, Nate and Gerald Kearsley, the three Stetson children, Mandy King, Dr. Hollingsworth, and Jack Donoghue (and other supporting characters) are figments of my imagination.

The controversy over fossil fuels and the evidence of climate change continue to be hot-button issues today (2013). As fracking (and the need for its pipelines and disposal of toxic waste) spreads across the United States, the issue of environmental safety is vigorously debated by the federal government, state houses, town halls, and around kitchen tables.


End file.
